


You're Out of Touch (I'm Out of Time)

by SpicyCheese



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/F, I'll give a heads up at the top of the chapter for that one, Kara (somehow) doesn't realize she's attracted to Lena until late in the game, Lena (somehow) doesn't know Kara is Supergirl, Lena's POV for mostly all of it, Post Season 2, Slow Burn, at one point there is some non-sexual but non-consensual touching, unrequited pining for a very long time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2019-09-01 20:58:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 64,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16772830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyCheese/pseuds/SpicyCheese
Summary: A lab accident with an alien substance leaves Lena with a deadly affliction. Contact with her skin causes her to drain others of their lifeforce (often fatally) but is also now necessary for her to survive. Lena decides not to "feed" off others, instead focusing on finding a cure- all the while trying to navigate the fallout from accidentally revealing her romantic feelings towards her best friend. Things complicate further too, because when the clock finally winds down, the city's resident Super takes Lena's survival into her own hands.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic has been eating at me for a very long time so it's clearly time to release it for public consumption. In this chapter you will encounter angst, unrequited feelings, and a good helping of made up science. Again, this exists in a post season 2 world (because that's how long this thing has been kicking around in my drafts folder), and in world that Lena somehow still does not know Kara and Supergirl are one in the same.

*_*_*_*_*

_She should’ve known better._

Yet here she is, crawling through of the rubble that was her personal lab at LCorp, hubris having gotten the best of her once again. Her life has always been practically Shakespearian in its tragedy; nothing should surprise her at this point.

Yes, admittedly taking the substance from the abandoned alien ship was a terrible idea from the start but the possibility of using it to create totally sustainable free energy for the world was just too much to pass up.

Of course things didn’t go that way, the project _literally_ blowing up in her face. The red glow of the emergency light pulses overhead, a warning too late. Cuts and bruises pepper her body but her skin is smooth and unmarred where the liquid splashed on her and that is… concerning. She remembers it being so cold it felt like burning but there’s no trace now.

_Not good._

Crawling on hands and knees, she finds the glass canister empty as well, substance gone entirely. The empty jar weighs heavy in her hands, red light reflected on it winking at her like a cosmic joke.

Anger bubbles up and she’s too damn tired to fight it. The shatter is wholly unsatisfactory after she hurls the jar, the shards dropping to add to the pile of debris.

The thunder of heavy boots of LCorp security draw closer. As she makes her way towards the door she permits herself the weakness of one last glance back at the lab, the days and weeks’ worth of work now rendered null.

Potential wasted.

The flash of anger is already burnt away and the old familiar itch of shame percolates under her skin instead, words echoing inside like a lingering curse.

_Not good. Not good at all._

*_*_*

Jess doesn’t lecture about the explosion the next day, but the glare given as she unceremoniously deposits a half a bagel and coffee on Lena’s desk, says it all. The suggestion that Lena take a long lunch _‘or at least call Ms. Danvers’_ , only adds to the feeling of being handled. She’s learned to accept her assistant’s uncanny ability to read her needs, but she’ll never be comfortable knowing that she’s that transparent to anyone.

Her assistant is spot on, of course. In the list of things-that-make-Lena-feel-better, talking to Kara is right at the top. Kara Danvers is a perfect ray of sunshine that she should have no business spending time basking in, yet does, every chance she gets.

It turns out there she has a teleconference she should be on over lunch- a wonderful excuse to avoid more of Jess’ pointed glaring as well as indulge in some back and forth with Kara over text. It’s apparently as welcome distraction for her friend as well as Kara reports Snapper is making her run around the city last minute to get extra quotes for tomorrow’s headline.

Lena picks at her salad in the empty conference room, occasionally interjecting something to let others on the call know she’s at least present if not listening

_[Kara: You sound tired.]_

[Lena: We’re texting- how can you tell?]

_[Kara: i’m just good like that. : ) ]_

_[Kara: (also u take longer to respond]_

[Lena: this is a working lunch you know]

[Lena: But yes, I am tired.] she sighs, registering how true that is as she types it.

_[Kara: maybe u should take a vacation? (palm tree, sun, etc)]_

[Lena: I had a week off a few months ago, don’t you remember?]

 _[Kara: kidnapped by Daximites does_ **_not_ ** _constitute a vacation.]_

_[Kara: have u… talked to anyone about that by the way? It might be helpful to find someone to talk to about it.]_

[Lena: I’ve talked to you. I’m fine though, really.]

Lena believes this strongly enough it might actually be the truth. She is fine. Feeling completely betrayed by someone she’d grown to care for and trust should be old hat by now. Just another Tuesday.

Three little typing bubbles pop up, and then disappear. It happens twice more before the message comes through.

_[Kara: i miss him.]_

_[Kara: Mike. Mon-el.]_

Lena takes a sip of her tea, even though it’s still far too hot. She purses her lips, spreading the heat out.They haven’t talked about him much. Even after Kara assured that it had nothing to do with the fact that it was Lena who banished him from Earth for all time, it seemed like it was still something carried silently between them. Kara avoided the topic, isolated, and it was only with ploys of pizza and wine and weekly movie nights that Lena managed to drag her back to the land of the living.

It’s easy to see how Kara’s mind has shifted there, her question about Lena’s mental health clearly as much projection as it was concern. It’s still a source of guilt, but she’s not about to deny her friend an opportunity to get some feelings out.

[Lena: What do you miss?]

Kara’s typing for a minute or two before the texts roll in.

_[Kara: i_ _dunno, hard to describe really]_

_[Kara:_ _we didn’t see eye-to-eye on… well much of anything but there were things he understood… just things that no one else did]_

_[Kara: it was just nice that I didn’t have to hold that stuff back, u know?]_

[Lena: You have to hold stuff back with me?]

And oh, she shouldn’t have said that.It’s too, on the nose, too needy. Lillian would’ve slapped her for something so obvious, but Lena’s been powerless since the beginning when it comes to Kara.

Enamored from the start the deeper feelings actually snuck up on her. Only in hindsight can she see how seamless it was, how quickly she opened herself to Kara, how vulnerable she let herself be. She does gives herself tremendous credit that she’s managed to keep it a secret so long (though some credit is undoubtedly due to the fact that Kara seems completely oblivious about these sorts of things).

Per usual, Kara either doesn’t notice, or is too polite to follow up on Lena’s subtext, opting on simply answering the question instead.

_[Kara: Of course not L! It was just… different]_

There’s a lull, and Lena tunes into the teleconference just a long enough to know she’s not missing anything, before the next text comes.

_[Kara:_ _what about u? u lost ppl too. do u miss him?]_

[Lena: who?]

_[Kara: Jack]_

There’s an odd tug in Lena chest when she realizes she realizes her brain still jumps to Lex when prompted about a significant ‘he’ in her life.

[Lena: Yes, of course.]

_[Kara: what’s it like_ _, for you?]_

She’s taken back by the question and her hesitancy must broadcast because Kara quickly adds, [Kara: sorry- u don’t have to answer that. i was just wondering bc…]

_[Kara:_ _…i just mean this is the first time I’ve lost someone i was, u know, with_ **_like that_ ** _]_

_[Kara: i just don’t know if what i’m feeling (or not feeling) is normal, I guess]_

Lena bites her lip. [Lena: It’s probably different for me.]

_[Kara: Why do you say that?]_

[Lena: Jack and I weren’t...] She stops, erases. _Weren’t what?_

Well, mutually in love, for starters, but that’s might putting too fine a point on it. Jack was… complicated. He loved her in ways she could never reciprocate. They both knew as much but she drank in his affections, his care and attention just the same. It was a relationship built on each getting a taste of what they want, all the while aware they’d never have it fully. It was just sugar high, a completely unsustainable indulgence (and by that metaphor, Lena going to LuthorCorp force-feeding herself to eat her broccoli). Their relationship together was never meant forever, more like ‘just for now’, a symbiotic using that left them both spent.

She is dangerously close to admitting some things she’d rather not, mainly all of that, she opts for a more diplomatic answer.

[Lena: It was different because I think maybe I always knew I was going to lose him. I was only part of myself when I was with him, and he only loved part of that part. Love can’t be piecemeal, for it to work you have to love the whole person and neither of us did. Does that make sense?]

She waits, hoping it was enough truth to satisfy, but the longer her answer hangs there, the more she starts to realize just how stupid it was. She should have just lied, given some little, ‘yeah, I miss his jokes and the way he’d rub my shoulders after 11 straight hours in the lab’- those would have been just as true and totally satisfactory.

Finally, _[Kara: Yeah. That makes a lot of sense_ ]

It is brief and vague and offers very little reassurance against misstep, but before Lena can inquire anything further, the typing bubbles pop up once more.

_[Kara: UGH- snapper just texted, gotta go. movie night on wednesday? 8pm? Luv ya!]_

She stares at her phone an extra minute before finally placing it down without answer. Kara’s probably off at the speed of light to the next thing, but the rapid exit nags at her. Lena’s bowed out of enough uncomfortable situations to recognize when someone’s running away, the question is what exactly Kara’s running from?

*_*_*

It's been a struggle to even keep her eyes open all day, and she knows the Swedish CEO she's been meeting with has noticed. He has insinuated twice already that Lena appears bored and uninterested.

When she stifles a yawn for the third time in as many minutes, he reaches his limit.

“I’m afraid I must be going. I don’t want to take up any more of your time,” he stands. She makes her way around the desk to meet him, more grateful than insulted by the dismissal at this point.

“Thank you so much for meeting with me, we’ll be in touch.” She reaches out her hand to shake his and when he accepts it the contact is shocking. Literally. It’s a sharp stab, a spark, and Lena lets go immediately. From the blanched look on the other man’s face she knows he felt it too.

"Static shock. Must be something in the air," she says quickly. He nods, unconvinced but clearly just as desperate for them to part ways as she is- something more like fear edging into his previously smug expression.

When the door closes behind him and flops heavily into her chair. Something is off but she can’t see the full picture of what just yet. She’s about to buzz for Jess to bring her an espresso or something, when she realizes… she doesn’t feel tired anymore. In fact, she feels more awake and energized than she has in- in-

-She stops the train of thought there. As far as she could tell, her lab work was fine after the accident. Though that was over a week ago…

Lena writes herself a reminder to redraw tomorrow. It’s perfectly reasonable that the deal was stressing her more than she thought, and now that it’s dispatched, she feels better. Until she finds a better solution, that will have to do.

*_*_*

It’s hard for her to parse exactly what happened really.

One minute she and Kara are playfully wrestling over the remote and the next Kara’s staring up at her from the couch cushions. Face right there, lips right there.

And Lena noses forward.

She only moves an inch, _one goddamn inch_ , but it’s enough to make her intentions clear. Enough to ruin everything. Kara shuffles back just as Lena’s brain catches up to her traitorous body.

Across from her, Kara blinks twice, eyebrows raised to her hairline. “Did you just… were you going to kiss me?”

She has nothing, no words that could change her trajectory, impact inevitable.

“ _Lena_?” Kara tries again, now looking worried in addition to confused.

The laugh forced out has sounds anemic but she’s barely able to muster enough breath to push it out. “I guess I just got carried away.”

“Carried away.” Kara repeats slowly, expression making it clear Lena’s missed ‘nonchalant’ by a mile. “With _what_?”

“Don’t worry about it- I was just-“ hands clench into tight fists, attempting to anchor herself from literally fleeing at this point. “It’s really no big deal.”

“You don’t… have feelings for me, do you?” Kara asks, a nervous little laugh following quickly behind. Lena just stares, and in the silence understanding creeps in slowly over her friend’s face.

_Fuck,_ Lena thinks. Her whole body has basically seized up and when she speaks again, it’s completely lacking in conviction. “It’s really no big deal.”

Kara’s mouth drops open a little and she adjusts her glasses. “Wow… okay.” Shifting in her seat, Lena’s not positive that Kara might not run out of her own apartment at this point.

There is no fleeing though and when she addressees Lena again, her voice has a detached edge to it that’s somehow far more painful than anger ever could be. “How long?”

“ _‘How long’_ ?” she echoes, though she knows exactly what Kara is asking.

“How long have you had feelings for me?” The tone is harder, flatter. Suddenly Kara’s that newbie reporter in Lena office again; unsure of the person in front of her, of herself even, but drawing a line in the sand anyway.

Lena has to marvel at her own handiwork, she’s managed to set their friendship back to the beginning in one felled swoop. It must be some sort of record, perhaps she’ll have Jess do some research back at the office tomorrow. For now though, Kara is waiting for an answer well deserved because Lena should have known better. She should have known by now that all lies unravel, even the ones you tell yourself.

“I don’t know,” Lena finally answers. It’s the truth. “…But a while now,” she adds.

“Before the Daximite attack?

“Yes.”

“Before Jack came to town?”

She swallows roughly at the name, but forces herself not to look away. “Yes.”

“Before your mother’s trial?”

Lena thinks of the couch in her office, of talk of flowers and family and _No one’s ever stood up for me like that._ She steels herself, bites her lip, “Yes.”

“Oh my god,” Kara says quietly.

She clears her throat, but the words sound dry and frail anyway. “Kara, please. Can we just… move past this?”

“You just told me you’ve had feelings for me for- for most of our friendship! I don’t think I can just _‘move past’_ that!”

“I never expected- I’ve been _trying_ not to- god this is exactly what I wanted to avoid.” If she digs her nails into her palms any harder she may draw blood but she’s not sure what her body would do right now if she let it.

“I didn’t want to make you feel… uncomfortable,” Lena continues, painfully aware her tone is edging close to pleading. The stinging behind her eyes threatens to compromise her fully, and it’s her mother’s voice that snaps at her from within: _Luthors don’t cry. They take care of business_. Memories of the words, of the slap that preceded them, is enough to anchor her to reality and eek out what she wants to say. “You’re my best friend, Kara. That’s all I’ve ever needed.”

“You’re my best friend too,” the edges of Kara’s voice softening. “I just- I need a little time is all.”

_A little time_. Tamping down the queasy nauseated feeling, she smooths over the edges of her expression into something resembling placid acceptance. “Yes, of course,” she nods. “Take all the time.”

Rising from the couch, slow and controlled, she proceeds to gather her things to leave. Autopilot engages as she moves mechanically towards the door, Kara following a step or two behind. Both pause at the threshold, unsure.

“Lena…” Kara starts, brow knit in concern.

“It’s fine,” she waves her hand dismissively. “Whatever happens next, I’m fine.”

It’s a pitifully transparent lie, but right now the only concern is holding herself together until she makes it to the street. “Again, I’m sorry. I never intended…” _To act on it? For Kara to find out?_ She’s not even sure.

When Kara moves towards her, it’s measured and deliberate. Whether she’s afraid to spook Lena or maybe just wants to underline the gesture specifically is unclear, but the hug is as warm. When they separate, Kara smiles at her softly. “I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Making her way to the elevator, Lena’s unsure of what to make of their parting. There’s no reason to distrust Kara just needs time, that she could forgive the betrayal of trust. On the other hand that look of shock (of _betrayal_ , because that’s what it was) after the almost kiss… Lena isn’t entirely sure she deserves to be forgiven.

*_*_*

Her face is already wet when she walks outside, rain mixing with tears. The conversation plays back from the top again- loop four or five at this point. Deeply focused on dissecting each cringe-worthy moment in slow motion replay, she doesn’t notice her attacker until it’s already too late.

_“YOU! ”_ he hisses, grabbing her coat and yanking her into the alleyway. Stringy wet hair sticks to his forehead, giving him a feral look, as he shoves her to the ground. She lands hard in the puddle below, slick cement and loose gravel biting where she braced her fall.

_Not good. Not good at all_. “I’ll give you my purse, wallet, whatever you want.”

“I don’t want your money _Luthor_ .” He spits her last name and _oh, it’s one of those things_.

“I think you have me confused with my brother,” she offers distractedly, focus fixed on scrambling upright again and flattening herself against the wall. “Whatever it is he did…”

“You’re all the same. You are he, and he is you.”

“Well Goo goo g’joob I guess,” she intones.

Slamming her hard in the chest, his hands curl into her blouse, pressing her further into the wall. She thinks she hears a rib crack and ending her would be easy it seems. Considering the day she’s had, maybe she should let him, but pride harder to crush than bone.

She fights.Grasping onto the hands holding her, she digs her nails down tight- a futile attempt to release his grip.

The moment she lays her hands on him, she knows something is terribly wrong.

A surge of energy streams into her, like a breaker flipped on, straight to her core. The man screams, panics, and grabs her throat but doubling the contact only seems to expedite the reaction. His eyes bulge, grip becoming more of a somatic reflex than anything else at this point. Whatever is happening, it’s killing him, and Lena can’t stop it.

Letting out a final strangled noise he collapses, taking Lena with him. Landing in a jumble of limbs, she twists and scrambles away. Pressing her back tight to the wall once more, turning in time to see his eyes dim out completely.

_He’s dead._

_She killed him._

_Oh GOD_.

She turns and vomits, too much wine and pizza and trauma for one evening. Dizziness tilts the world even more askew and Supergirl’s arrival may have gone totally unnoticed if the landing impact didn’t vibrate the garbage cans next to her.

_“Ms. Luthor!”_ The dead man is bypassed entirely, the hero striding right towards Lena instead, hand extended.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Lena screeches, crab-crawl shuffling away as best she can. Supergirl retracts the offered hand quickly, but doesn’t back away.

“I touched _him_ ,” she tries again, words too clunky to sieve through her brain right now. “I touched him and he died.”

Supergirl looks from the dead body to Lena and back again and it would be almost comical if Lena hadn’t just committed murder.

“I don’t know what happened,” she adds, the CYA plausible deniability training engrained in her from an early age coming through. Autopilot is all she has at the moment. 

The alien looks down at Lena, frowning with something uncomfortably close to pity, before scanning the scene. Expression making a familiar ‘Oh”, the hero plucks a dirty oven mitt from the dumpster, puts it on, and holding it up like some sort of demented hand puppet before approaching Lena again.

“Do you trust me?” she asks, offering the newly-gloved hand, like Lena is some Disney princess instead of a villain.

“Of course.”

The response automatic and Lena hates, hates, _hates_ that. In petulant protest, she stands on her own, not taking the offered oven-mitted hand and thankfully the Superhero doesn’t seem to bat an eye at the snub. Instead, Lena watches her and pulls a cellphone from somewhere in her cape, and start to dial. “I know someone who can help,” she says, and it honestly never occurred that even Superhero’s need help sometimes.

*_*_*

Kara’s sister is not an FBI agent and the cell Lena currently occupies is not for human criminals. It is, in fact, the kind of cell that she’d expect a secret government organization to have- the kind they’re welcome to throw someone or something into and throw away the key.

Still, they put on a show, forgoing handcuffs, taking blood for lab work- she wonders if they’ll even share the results with her.

A derisive laugh bubbles up unexpectedly because _Fuck the results_. The last evil Luthor is finally incarcerated. Supergirl should just leave her here so the world can finally sleep soundly.

After what seems like an eternity, the door to the cell block opens. Kara’s sister strides in, face the picture of stony secret-government agent determination. Supergirl files in behind, expression somewhat less reserved.

Agent Danvers (and god was Lena a chump to swallow the whole FBI agent guise) wastes no time, jumping right into the interrogation. “We got your lab results. I have to say, they were quite fascinating Ms. Luthor.”

“I live to amuse,” Lena says lightly. Behind the agent, Supergirl shifts awkwardly, refusing to meet Lena’s eyes. Not a good sign.

“Ms. Luthor,” Alex’s tone drops a bit, gathering Lena’s attention once more. “Your samples are all saturated with high levels of an element called Ixodis. An element, mind you, that does not exist on Earth. Can you explain that?”

“I suppose asking for my lawyer isn’t one of the available options?”

“She’s here to help.” Supergirl interjects, finally meeting Lena’s eyes. Something there, in the hero’s expression, something is comforting. It’s against every knee-jerk reaction the crest below gives, and when, WHEN will Lena learn how to stop being such a chump? Not today apparently.

“The element was part of the core power system of a downed alien ship,” Lena hears herself say, words detached, automatic. “I salvaged it, hoping to reverse engineer the substance towards a new, sustainable and affordable energy source.”

“For LCorp.”

It’s not a question, it’s an accusation and she’s is liking Kara’s sister less and less by the

minute.

“For the world,” she answers. The agent nods, unreadable.

“I was experimenting with it in my private lab, and it became unstable.” The words come easier now, she is a machine regurgitating data. “There was explosion and I was coated in it. When I regained consciousness, whatever was left either dissipated in the air or was likely absorbed into my skin.”

“When was this?”

“Almost two weeks ago.”

“Since then, have you experienced any other changes, anomalies or symptoms like you did tonight?”

“Yes.”

Alex tilts her chin up slightly but makes no other movements or signs. “Could you please tell us about that?”

It occurs to Lena that Agent Danvers isn’t writing any of this down. This conversation is most likely being recorded. Everything Lena is saying, everything she does, is being documented and she is not in control of what they want to do with that information. She has no control; she has no say in what happens to her next, or what they do with that information.

_What else is new._

“Friday I ended a business meeting by shaking a man’s hand. When we touched it felt like…” she swallows roughly, remembering the man in the alley. “It felt like tonight. Like I was… sucking the life out of him.”

She clears her throat, continuing. “I let go immediately, but I know the other man felt it.”

“Have you touched anyone else since then?”

“No.”

The agent raises an eyebrow. “You haven’t had skin contact with anyone else, in two weeks?”

“Correct,” and she’d really like to crawl in a hole right now because it’s never been underlined so completely just how singular and lonely her life really is.

Thankfully the agent moves on. “And since the incident tonight, have you experienced any new symptoms or issues?”

“Well, I don’t feel as run down anymore, if that’s what you mean.” Sarcasm probably isn’t the best options right now, considering the dual frowns she receives back, but she’s had enough. Shifting her posture into everything Lillian ever taught her, she glares at both women. “I think I’ve been more than compliant at this point, so would one of you please tell me what’s happening?”

“The Ixodis was absorbed into your skin and seems to have fused with your metabolic system,” Alex launches in, voice steady and detached, a true clinician. “It more or less feeds off or metabolizes the energy carbon based forms emit and consist of, essentially draining them in order to sustain itself. Skin contact is necessary for this process.”

Lena’s mind whirs at this but Agent Danvers presses on. “We found the personal samples you told us about, the ones you took from yourself after the initial accident and compared them to you labs today. There is a slow but steady negative trend in some of your vitals hinting at the possible correlation between-“

“-You’re suggesting that while this remains fused with me, I may need to drain others in order to survive.” She’s not sure if she’s going to laugh or cry.

_Reduced to a goddamn parasite._

“You’re not a parasite,” Alex responds to the accidently verbalized quip. “And we don’t know what is going to happen next.”

“The DEO is going to keep running tests,” she continues. “Keep doing everything we can to try and help you. We are going to sort this out.”

“And what if it can’t be ‘sorted out’. What if this is just… me now?”

“Like I said, we can’t anticipate anything. Right now we have more immediate concerns, the first of which is safety.”

Not well-being, _Safety_ . Suddenly the larger picture implications of her condition come into sharp focus. “Safety _for_ me, or _from_ me?”

“Both.”

Well, at least she’s honest.

“Ms. Luthor,” the stern Superhero voice draws Lena’s attention. “We _are_ going to figure this out,” And if Lena detects a tinge of desperation, she tells herself it’s imagined.

“We have to run a few more tests,” the agent butts in, the brusque tenor a signal that it was time to continue to get to work. “The techs will be here in 5 minutes.” Turning to Supergirl, she adds a pointed, “ _Five minutes,_ ” and an understanding Lena doesn’t share passes between the two women before the agent turns and leaves.

Alone again, Supergirl steps closer to the glass. “It’s going to be okay,” though some of that trademark confidence is starting to fade.

Lena wants to roll her eyes, because she can count on one hand the number times that’s turned out to be true. She hands clasps together tightly behind her back, as she studies the ground.

“Lena…”

The movement catches her eye as Supergirl brings her hand up, placing her palm on the glass. Almost on its own accord, Lena’s hand slides up to mirror it. They’re toe to toe, and despite the barrier, this is as close as she’s felt to the hero since before the attack.

“We’ll figure it out. Really,” and this time the emphasis on ‘ _we’_ feels different somehow. Lena wants to be resentful, spiteful, but can’t manage anything but gratitude. She nods, eyes never leaving the hero, and staring at the space she occupied long after the alien has bid her goodbye for the evening.

Alone once more, she forces herself to take stock of the situation fully.

_Upon skin contact with another person, she drains their… essence, for lack of a better term._

__Too much contact will kill someone._ _

_Without contact, without “feeding”, she won’t survive._

There’s something paradoxically comforting in not being given a choice, in fate defining her future so narrowly. There is no debate of course, ‘feeding’ is not going to happen. Her options are find a cure or die trying. No one else will be hurt by a Luthor. Not if she can help it.

Lab techs arrive and the next few hours are filled with more tests and questions. At some point she sits down and at some point she must fall asleep as well because when she opens her eyes again, Agent Danvers rapping on the glass.

“Good Morning Ms. Luthor.”

Lena looks around but Supergirl is nowhere in sight. “Is it? It’s hard to tell without a window.”

“We had to keep you here for safety reasons until we knew what we’re dealing with better.”

“And now?” Dread creeps in, she keeps her tone as light and conversational as possible. “Am I to expect an extended stay?”

“Supergirl has successfully advocated for your release, under the condition of her continued supervision.”

“That is… very kind of her. Unnecessary but kind,” and that little swell of gratitude rises once more. She won’t have to die in this cell at least. That’s something.

“Release is contingent upon agreement to routine mandatory lab work as well. You’ll be visited by myself or another agent every few days to gather blood work and other data.”

“Of course.” Lena nods. At this point she’d agree to electroshock therapy if it gets her out She takes a little breath, steeling herself for the question she dreads the most. “And my prognosis?”

Agent Danvers’ face stays neutral, but Lena sees her bite the inside of her cheek for a moment. It is such a Kara thing to do, that Lena feels like she’s been punched in the gut.

“Extrapolating the decline, we estimate you have about 16 days without absorption before your vitals reach critical.”

Lena nods. There is nothing more to say or do. “I understand.”

“The DEO labs will continue to work to provide a solution. In the meantime, is there anyone I can call for you? For support I mean.”

_Kara, Kara, Kara_.

The name beats inside of her but Lena shakes her head. She cannot risk putting Kara or anyone else in that kind of danger. Never again. “No. I’ll be fine. Please bring me home.”

*_*_*_*_*_*


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of this written already, so expect a few more updates fairly soon :) Enjoy!

*_*_*_*_*

She wakes the next morning in her own bed, and for a brief moment lets herself hope it was a dream.

A quick check in with her body- still scraped and bruised from the fight and the subsequent lab work- dispels that though. She makes her way the bathroom and begins her routine, unsure what else to do really.

Turning the temperature up, the hot water bites at the vulnerable pieces exposed the night before, but does nothing for the numb, lost feeling radiating from within. Stepping out, she grabs a towel, and goes to wipe off the mirror, but stops when she sees her own reflection.

Her bare shoulders, the unmarred expanse of skin across her chest. She drops the towel and follows that skin everywhere else.

_I look the same_ , she thinks, though it’s been a while since she’s really looked at herself without clothes. She’s never been an athlete, hers has always been a composition of soft curves and rounded edges. Any imposing power she’s manifested has always been more about clothing and body language than her form itself. She has a whole makeup case of war paint and a closet full of armor on that front.

She always thought the danger she posed came from within anyway, calculating mind and a sharp tongue. But now it’s this skin, this soft, pale skin,that truly holds the danger.

It’s with that in mind that she heads back to her wardrobe, digging until she finds them. 

The gloves were from some masquerade charity ball she’d attended several years ago and she slides them on slowly, delicately. They’re long, covering her arms to just above her elbow and despite the soft texture of the black satin, their purpose makes them feel constricting. This is a different kind of armor all together. Something to protect the world from her.

_Feeling sorry for yourself?_ , she chides, and pushes forward, pushes those thoughts down. From that point her morning moves more quickly. She finishes dressing in slacks and a blazer, and heads out the door to her day.

When she gets to work, her first order of business is to sit down and speak with her assistant. She watches Jess go on a face journey, expression twisting and contorting, despite Lena’s clinical delivery of her new situation. Leaving the woman in the dark was not an option logistically, but when Jess abandons her reserve, tears barely contained as she grasps Lena’s gloved hands between her own vowing she will be there to the bitter end, Lena realizes she might need her other ways too.

That aside, her day goes fairly simply. With Jess’ assistance, Lena spends the morning creating work orders to rebuild her personal lab so she can work on a cure, and the plans for the afternoon to be spent reviewing her Will with her attorney (should the whole cure thing be unsuccessful).

Lena’s grown fairly comfortable with the fact that she could die any moment, but she never pictured it as slow and painful process. It makes assassination look positively preferable.

Her phone buzzes a few times over the course of the day, but Lena makes a point of not checking it. There is only one person it could be and Lena’s not sure she’s ready for any type of conversation with her. 

Ready or not though, around three o’clock Kara bursts through her office doors like a tornado and twice as chaotic. Lena startles, papers cascading off her desk, as her friend barrels towards her.

“Are you okay!?!?” she screeches, and from the look on her face, it’s clear she’s been dealt into to what’s going on.

“I see you’ve been speaking with Supergirl then.”

“Oh- uh- No. Alex actually.” Kara says. Crossing her arms, attitude shifts from panic to concern. “Lena, why didn’t you call me? Or answer my texts?”

“Because, as I hope your sister made you aware, I am extremely dangerous.”

“Your _condition_ is dangerous, not you,” and _oh_ how Lena wishes she could believe that as much as Kara does.

“Truthfully, I wasn’t sure what to say,” Lena shrugs. The ‘ _After how I behaved’_ lingers heavily at the tip of her tongue.

“You say, ‘Kara, I need you _’_ and I come. That’s what you say!” Kara paces a few steps back, still standing on the desk from her. “God, I can’t believe you’d just- the other night doesn’t change- UGH! The point is you call when you’re in trouble and I answer. That’s what friends do.”

_Friends_. Lena’s heart skips a bit, joyful at the confirmation. “Alright, I understand. I’m sorry.”

“Good,” Kara nods, arms crossed awkwardly, as she finally stops pacing. “So uh…” she settles a bit. “How are you feeling?”

“Physically better than I have in a week or so, and unfortunate enough to know why.”

“Alex said you have a little over two weeks before you have to feed again.”

“Yes, fleas and I have that in common now."

“Lena, this is serious!”

“Believe me, I know.” She rises so she’s at the same level as Kara now. “What do you want me to do Kara?”

“What do I- that’s not- that’s…” she deflates a little, attempt at communication not going whatever way she intended. “I want to be here for you Lena. Just tell me how.”

_Stay_. That’s what Lena wants. Stay her friend, stay by her side, but that’s cruel. It’s cruel because despite Kara’s words, she can’t be sure that if she weren’t terminal, Kara would want to be within 100 feet of her. Considering how she’d behaved. And Lena’s not going to force that kind of discomfort on anyone. “I’m fine really.”

“Have you eaten anything today?”

“It’s only 3:15.”

Kara looks at her like she’s an alien, but it’s the same look she always gives Lena when lecturing about her poor eating habits. “Okay, we’re having dinner together. 7pm. My place.”

“There’s no way I’ll be done by seven.” She has paperwork, and lab work too, now, but her tone is the same one she always has when Kara asks something of her. She’s still somehow doomed from the start.

“Oh you will tonight missy,” Kara says pointedly. She grabs her purse throwing a commanding, “See you at seven!” over her shoulder as she goes.

*_*_*

It’s a silent ride to Kara’s that night and there are several moments Lena has to physically sink her nails into her palms to keep from ordering that they pull over. From just texting Kara and saying it’s too difficult, too dangerous, too much, and riding into the sunset. In the end she’s weak, and settles for making a b-line for the wine the moment they get inside instead. 

“One of those days?” Kara smiles, before taking a few steps towards the kitchen.

“Truly,” and Lena surveys the scene. Bowls and measuring cups litter the counter. “Do you, uh, want any help?”

Kara looks from Lena to the very full glass of wine and back up. “No. Why don’t you just relax in the living room.” 

It feels like a dismissal and Lena is so surprised by it she finds herself moving to the living room on autopilot. As she turns, she spies the couch though. _The scene of the crime_ , and starts to feel overwhelmed. 

She turns back, opting to lean on the counter and set her wine beside her. “I think I’ll just hang out here. So what are we having tonight?”

Kara turns, almost surprised (disappointed?) to have Lena still in her space. “Oh, uh, well we’re having a Danvers family favorite. Breakfast for dinner!”

Lena laughs. “Really?”

“Yes, _really_ ,” Kara says loftily, placing the plate in front Lena with a flourish. “You’re going to eat chocolate chip pancakes and scrambled eggs, and you’re going to love them.”

“Undoubtedly,” Lena smiles. Kara smiles as well, but it feels slightly forced, like her words. She turns back to her cooking and silence settles once more. The awkward, heavy kind. The kind that comes when neither person knows what to say.

It’s a long three minutes as Kara finishes up the food and plates it. They end up eating right there in the kitchen, standing a the island, and it gives the meal a rushed feel.

Conversation is stiff, and stunted. It reminds Lena of awkward blind dates, two people that don’t really know how to interact, giving careful, measured responses. When the topic shifts to the weather, Lena feels she can’t quite bare it any longer.

“Thank you for dinner,” Lena says quietly, placing her fork down.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Kara shrugs. She stands and starts gathering their plates. “Was thinking maybe we could make a thing out of it. Dinner every few days. It’d be less rushed than our lunches.”

The ulterior motive of forcing an early end to her workday as blatant as can be. Tonight was awkward enough, she’s not about to put Kara through another evening like this. “I don’t think I’m going to have that kind of time. I need the evenings for research.”

“The DEO is working on that,” Kara waves the excuse away. “You should be, you know…“

“What, ‘saving my strength’? ‘Making myself comfortable’?” Lena rolls her eyes. “I’ve worked my entire life to impact some real change, do some good. I haven’t yet and I’m not going to be known as the Luthor that tripped at the finish line.” She tosses her napkin down. “I can rest when I’m dead.”

Kara bites her lip, and _oh maybe that wasn’t the best phrasing on Lena’s part._ “Well I guess I’m bringing dinner to you then,” Kara says, pushing the little smile onward. “Though I admit pancakes always taste weird when you reheat them.”

“Kara…” and she resists the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. “This… this doesn’t feel right. Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean you have to do this. I know what I did made you feel uncomfortable and you don’t have to-”

“-I didn’t! Well, I mean, yeah, it did _at the time_ , but it was just a bit of a shock. It’s fine now. This is all fine,” it’s a little too fast, a little too rambley for Lena’s liking. “And it doesn’t matter. What matters is getting my best friend whatever she needs, if it makes her day a little bit better…

Hand it to Kara put Lena’s quality of life over her own discomfort. Lena sighs, and gives her this round for now. “The chocolate chips make up for the weird taste. When you reheat the pancakes, I mean.”

“Exactly.” Kara nods, and the smile that blooms is a bit brighter than the one before.

Lena bites her lip, debates dropping it but pushes forward in the end. “So are we really pretending everything is back to normal now?”

Kara had pauses, that crinkle in her forehead furrowed in thought before landing on, “Well, I’d like it to be. Wouldn’t you?’

At a loss, Lena simply nods. It’s a good thirty seconds of them staring at one another before Lena finally adds, “I better get going.”

Kara blinks, the odd spell breaking. “Oh, uh, ok.”

They walk to the door, slowly, and the odd echo of the other night ricocheting between them unspoken.

“Well, goodnight,” Kara says as they pause at the threshold, though there’s the distinct feeling she’s waiting for something.

_She can’t be considering a hug though, can she?_ Any contact with Lena’s skin could kill her. At a loss, Lena sticks out one gloved hand. “Goodnight.”

Kara looks at it sadly, settles for holding Lena outstretched hand between the two of hers, giving a very firm squeeze. “Goodnight, Lena,” she says, closing the door between them.

As Lena makes her way downstairs she realizes with sick clarity that she’s going to have to watch more than just her body decline. She may have to watch her friendship slow and fizzle and go down with her as well.

*_*_*_*_*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the nice comments! Feedback is always welcome :) And feel free to come say hi or swap painful headcanons over on Tumblr. Username: Spicycheeser


	3. Chapter 3

*_*_*_*_*

  


_“Ms. Luthor? There’s an Agent Danvers here to see you.”_

Lena brain stutters a second before regaining composure. “Thanks Jess. Send her in.” She hopes she can complete whatever the DEO requires quickly, there’s no time to waste.

“Ms. Luthor.”

“Agent Danvers,” Lena says coolly, standing to greet Alex as she enters. “I guess covert government organizations aren’t bound by doctor/patient confidentiality.” The agent frowns. “You told your sister Kara about my condition?”

The pause is a beat longer than Lena expects. “Not that it matters," Alex begins. "But the whole doctor/patient thing goes out the window if the person in question might hurt themselves or others.”

Alex strides towards the desk casually, holding the power dynamic in her favor despite Lena’s home field advantage. “What does matter is Kara. She cares about you. She needed to know.“

“ _I_ decide who needs to know.”

Alex stops in front of the desk, but doesn’t take a seat and Lena doesn’t offer her one. It’s a staring match for a moment before Alex continues once more. “Ms. Luthor I came to report that we're still working around the clock towards a solution for you. You have the full support and assistance of the DEO in this matter.”

“I appreciate that.”

Alex nods, eyes never straying from Lena’s. “We’re also happy to provide any other support you may need. We understand the incredible stress and fear you must be-“

“-I assure you I’m fine.”

Alex raises an eyebrow. She places the bag on Lena’s desk and begins unloading medical equipment. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Well, let’s get on with it then, shall we?” Lena comes around the desk, deliberately slow but compliant. She knows how to pick her battles. She lets Alex take blood work and vitals but draws the line at the urine specimen. It’s twenty minutes that feel like three hours and she is more than relieved when the agent begins to pack things away once more.

“And how often will I have to endure this poking and prodding?” Lena asks, sliding on her long black gloves once more.

“With your timeline, I think once every 72 hours will suffice.”

“Seems as though I’ll have a regular dose of Danvers from here on out then,” Lena says wryly.

The agent raises an eyebrow.

“Your sister has mandated we have dinner together every few evenings,” Lena clarifies, and tries not admit how invested she is in the older sibling’s reaction.

She gets none, just a simple, “Oh?”

It’s more than a little infuriating.

Instruments packed, Agent Danvers makes her way to the door, but pauses. Lena braces herself for a barrage that doesn’t come. Instead, the agent’s expression softens, brow scrunching in conflict in a way that is so reminiscent of Kara it’s almost shocking. She opens her mouth to say something, but shuts it again, before finally landing on “Please do call if you need anything else. My personal number..." She places what looks like a business card on the table near the door.

Lena blinks, unsure exactly how to interpret the change. “I will,” she says slowly.

Alex nods, and exits the room, whatever was left unsaid going with her.

*_*_*

Brand new equipment winks under the bright fluorescence of her new lab and maybe this is what kids in other families felt on Christmas morning.

Compartmentalizing is a survival technique for her, so the spark of excitement at starting a new project is only slightly blemished by the reason behind its necessity. Opening a new spiral bound notebook she starts from the beginning.

_Can Ixodis be separated from her DNA? Can she feasibly be free of it? If she can’t eradicate it, can she neutralize it? Block its effects? Cut it off at the sources somehow? Physical barriers like clothing are enough to stymie accidental contact but that’s hardly reassuring._

Brainstorming notes get weeded, triaged, and filtered slowly. By the time she heads back up to her office to end for the evening, it’s half past one in the morning.

Her body aches and she’s so focused on packing up she almost misses the sound of boots landing outside. Almost.

It’s strange to see the alien here again. Other than the attack, she and Supergirl had only spoken once since the Daximite invasion was foiled. It was several months ago when a disgruntled employee took hostages in the employee lounge on LCorp’s 8th floor.

Lena had already been attempting to talk him down for 10 minutes when Supergirl arrived. The hero made short work of disabling the gunman but he still managed to shoot a worker in the foot before he was down. It was lena that the alien went to comfort when the dust settled though.

_“Are you okay?”_

Lena remembers inhuman warmth on her cheek, radiating from Supergirl’s palm as she stared at Lena with concentration clearly denoting x-ray vision being used.

 _“I’m okay,”_ Lena managed at the time and it was the first time since the invasion she felt like she could relax a little again. She hadn’t realized just how _safe_ having the Super in her life had made her feel, and how going so long without impacted her.

But then a detective called for Supergirl and the hand still on Lena’s cheek quickly disappeared. She’d turned abruptly and made her way to the officer in question, but not before throwing a quiet and confusing, _“I’m glad you’re okay_ ,” over her shoulder back at Lena.

Supergirl wanting to keep her distance makes perfect sense of course. The common denominator between the Daximite invasion, Rhea’s mayhem, Mon-El’s banishment, even that hostage situation is _Lena_ , after all. Being a Luthor comes with power and long history of abusing it; history Lena still hasn’t been able to right and legacy she hasn’t even been able to make a dent in. People will always find a villain to blame for their misfortune but until Lena can prove without a doubt she isn’t it, those around her are going to continue to get hurt.

And now she’s running out of time.

Before the Daximite attack felt like she and Supergirl had seen eye-to-eye, that the alien had understood Lena’s intentions were good. Maybe that’s why the distance after hurts so much, and why having the hero land on her balcony now can only feel like a judgment.

“Is this a welfare check or a parole visit?” Lena asks the open doorway, not bothering to look up from her work.

“I’m here to see how you’re doing,” her guest states from the threshold, ignoring Lena’s sarcasm. “Kara Danvers mentioned she hadn’t heard much from you today.”

“I’ve been bit too preoccupied for girl-talk,” Lena states flatley.

“This is not the time to push people away.” 

“On the contrary, keeping people at a distance is exactly what I need to be doing,” Lena says, crossing her arms. “Or was there some part of _‘_ when I touch people, they die _’_ that I’m not understanding?”

The hero says nothing and there are about a thousand places Lena can think of- most prominently her bed- that she’d rather be other than standing here under the alien’s scrutiny. “Look, you can tell the DEO they have nothing to fear from me. I have no intention of ‘feeding’ off of anyone or anything, at any time.”

“What do you mean you’re not going to feed?”

The alien sounds genuinely confused and Lena wants to laugh because _Of course_. Of course Supergirl would assume she would, assume a Luthor wouldn’t think twice about hurting someone for her own self preservation. That’s her family’s way after all, right? “Is it still so hard to believe that I don’t want to hurt people? That I could value others over myself?”

“Ms. Luthor… I…”

 _No_ . Lena may be dying but she’s not going to accept _that_ tone, that look of pity. Not from anyone and especially not her. “Supergirl, I have a lot of work to do, and a rather limited timeline to do it in. Unless you have other DEO mandates to enforce, I’m going to ask you to leave.”

The superhero does not move though and Lena swallows roughly, waiting. It’s a weird sort of stand off, more born out of what felt like indecision on the alien’s part. Lena can feel her body sag, exhaustion deeper than she thought possible and she blames that for the reason she breaks the stalemate to eek out a very humbling “ _Please_.”

Then and only then does the alien silently, and ever so reluctantly, head back outside and take off.

And she’s alone, once again.

  


*_*_*

Rain beads over the glass of Kara’s living room window, fragmenting the world into thousands of little windows of their own.

It’s been a rough few days.

Twelve experiments and eight notebooks worth of equations Lena is no closer. Though she thinks she's managed to become fairly proficient at taking her own blood at this point.

She misses Jack. He was always better at some of the trickier biochemical conundrums. Now there's no one to bounce those ideas off of. No one to ruffle her hair and tell her to get some rest. And when she throws her microscope, there's no one to laugh and take her out for ice cream after.

She thinks of her conversation (was it really barely a week ago?) about missing him and why all her relationships seem to have to be so complex? Even those that are gone carry such a confusing mix of emotions. Jack. Lex. Lionel.

And then there’s Kara.

Apparently Lena is not the only one skilled in compartmentalizing because Kara seems far better than she at the whole _pretend-nothing-is-different_ plan. If anything since that talk Kara has been closer, more attentive… which makes Lena exceptionally nervous and confused. Nervous about the literal risk to be in Lena’s proximity, and confused… well for the same reason.

She tries to shake the thought away as she finishes her drink in one final gulp, eyes watering at the bite as it slides down. Turning away from her stormy vantage at window, she pads back towards the couch where Kara, half asleep, gives Lena a drowsy smile.

“Stop brooding and come finish the movie,” Kara offers, patting the couch cushion next to her, but Lena doesn’t move.

Kara yawns, rolls her eyes, and holds up an end of her blanket. “Every inch of you is wrapped up like a mummy, it’s totally safe. ”

It’s not, it really isn't, but Kara has been extra tenacious when it comes to requests lately (and Lena is still so weak when it comes to her). She gives in and moves to the couch, but the furthest portion possible. Kara scoots closer, closing the distance some, and Lena stills as her friend covers their legs with the same blanket.

“Thanks," Lena mumbles trying to separate the pleasant warmth she feels inside, from its source.

The movie drones in the background. Lena's faces towards it but is hyper-aware that Kara's watching her instead. Kara’s been watching Lena all night, with _that look_. Not pity, but something heavy and clingy, something adjacent. She's watched Lena through their dinner together (tortellini this time- two CostClub bags worth), through washing dishes and the through the first half of the movie too. That’s why she got up in the first place, it was hard to endure that level of scrutiny.

Lena has worked hard to keep the conversation light, expertly steering it away from any or all things important. Kara has lets her, for the most part, and hasn’t pushed but it's clear there's something she’s holding back remaining unsaid.

"We can talk if you want."

Oh, and _there_ it is. Lena knows better than to look over in answer. Suddenly the movie is simply fascinating.

“My friend Lena,” Kara tries again, voice dipping softer somehow. “She’s always good about getting me to talk about things.”

“That so?” She aims for nonchalant but can already feel herself wavering. Something is loosening inside that she’d much rather didn’t.

The couch cushion between them dips under Kara's weight as she slides closer and Lena stiffens at the proximity.

“Yeah, she helps me talk about all sorts of things actually… Even things she might not want to deal with herself.”

Lena thinks of talking with Kara about missing Mon-El and is reminded that Kara is CatCo's top reporter for a reason.

"It's okay." Kara whispers soft, _too soft,_ and it filters right through the cracks, expanding, the pressure around her resolve. “I’m here.”

Lena has tried very, very hard not to think about her situations too much. Not the implications of the disease, nor the issues between her and Kara, because she can’t afford to. Can’t afford to shut down, to give into feelings. She’s not sure she has the energy to put herself back together again.

The problem is that is exactly what Kara is asking her to do. She is asking Lena to feel it, doing so in that soft voice that overrides all the logic and makes Lena feel like it might just possibly be safe to do so. To permit herself a moment to grieve.

Eyes still forward, Lena reaches out blindly and can’t stop the little sob of emotion that eeks out when Kara takes the gloved hand in hers.

“I’m here," Kara repeats, the pressure of her fingers tightening around Lena's. "Always.”

And Lena let’s herself give in to it.

She cries silently af first, the way she was taught, but when she’s pulled into Kara’s embrace it breaks into ugly, uncontrolled keening. Something cracks within her right down the seams. What feels like a lifetime of pain reserved, tucked away for a future date now unlikely to ever arrive, bursts forth up from the depths. She cries for herself, for her relationship with Kara, for all her relationships. She cries for people she’s lost to bullets, to hubris, to madness, to selfish stubborn pride. She mourns things left interred for most her life, exhuming them fresh once more, and for all the things she'll never know.

Even through the muffled shuddering sobs, she’s careful with herself, with her skin, and despite the level of poise retained it’s still probably the most unwound she’s let anyone’s see her. She cries, and cries cries until she’s raw, spent, and empty ( _and yet light, so much lighter, like she could just blow away on a breeze)_.

They don’t speak any more that night. Lena offers no argument when Kara leads her to the bedroom and says nothing when Kara lays down on the bed adjacent to her. There’s no discussion about safety as Kara strokes her shoulder over the sleeve of her t-shirt and nothing further exchanged when that turns into broad comforting strokes over her back as well.

And when one of them mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like “ _Just for tonight_ ”, Lena feels confident that neither one of them will say a word about that either.

*_*_*_*_*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your guys' comments are giving me LIIIIFE. Thank you all so, so much!!! I'm glad you're all enjoying the pain- much more to come.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter addresses the following: One of my favorite tropes, more Agent Dr. Danvers, bittersweet memories about Lena's MIT lab days, some gay backstory, and more sad, sad Lena. 
> 
> Also I saw y'all's smarty pants comments wondering why Lena can't just drain energy from some small animals, and added a line to address that too :) Even though the real answer is BECAUSE IT IS SO MUCH MORE TRAGIC AND DRAMATIC IF SHE CAN'T. As always, please continue suspend your disbelief at my made up science either way :) 
> 
> In all seriousness though, I am floored and delighted by all the feedback. It's super motivating and totally make my day. Thanks again and glad you're enjoying this so far!

*_*_*_*_*

She’d always agreed with ‘dying is easy, living is harder’ except now dying feels pretty damn tough too.

And it’s getting worse with each passing day. She’s tired, down to her bones and whether it’s the general physical fatigue or the idea that she really is at the end (only a supposed week to go at this point), the fact is she’s letting things slide. Her resolve is dissolving, she’s giving in to indulgences, starting with booze and ending with Kara Danvers, and is wants stop fighting it for good.

So when she regains consciousness, finding herself on the floor of her office with a very concerned Kara Danvers staring down at her, she has few regrets saying first thing that comes to mind. “Hello Darling.”

Kara’s frown deepens. “You passed out again, didn’t you?” 

“It would seem so.” She let’s Kara take her gloved hand and help her up, regrets it as the room spins slightly. She settles on the couch. “What are you doing here so late?”

“I was worried about you. Looks like I had reason to be...” She sits next to Lena on the couch, hands her a glass of water. “Which is why I’m moving in with you.”

Spit takes are far more amusing on TV. Water dribbles out down her chin and throat simultaneously and she coughs five or six times before managing a weak, “ _What?”_

“I’m moving into your apartment. You know, to help take care of you and make sure you’re okay.”

“That’s a terrible idea.” Because it is. It really, really is. Lena’s been taking a huge risk being around Kara at all in her condition at all and having her occupying her most private space has multiple facets of disaster written all over it.

“I disagree, and so does Jess.” 

Lena wants to laugh because _of course_ Jess disagrees. The woman been fretting over her three times as hard since this started and having Kara _at Lena’s home_ would probably be a relief.

“I don’t think Jess understands the full scope of what that would entail. And neither do you,” Lena says. Sitting up straighter, tries to school her face to something resembling controlled reserve. “You don’t need the messy trauma of basically watching me die and I don’t need that on my conscious either.”

“I think YOU are the one who doesn’t understand,” Kara shoots back, expression resembling something closer to what Agent Danvers might make. “This is what people do for the people they care about. They stick with them, in sickness or in health. This is not negotiable Lena. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

 _This is a terrible, terrible idea._ “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“No, you don’t,” Kara says, squeezing Lena’s gloved hands. “But you won’t regret this. I promise.”

  


*_*_*

Lena regrets it almost instantly.

Kara shows up to her apartment, suitcase in hand, with the sort of awed innocence of a young ingénue, fresh off the bus from Kansas. The moment she steps inside Lena’s apartment though, her smile dims a bit, and the ping of disappointment stabs at Lena in a way she hadn't expected it to.

Kara’s never been to her apartment before. They’ve avoided it for their entire friendship and it's because of this exact reaction.

Growing up, Lena’s bedroom had been a sterile space, all clean lines and minimalist furniture. She wasn’t allowed to put up posters or pictures- lest she compromise the paint. The first day she moved in with the Luthors, Lillian put Lena’s box of personal items, bits of nostalgia she’d been able to retain, in the back of the closet and told her sentimentality made people soft and should never be on display.

Lena’s never really pushed herself beyond those boundaries, there always seemed to be a reason to bother, but now seeing Kara stroll past her blank walls and empty countertops she thinks maybe she should have.

“It’s very… clean,” and hand it to Kara to find something kind to say.

“I’m hardly ever here,” Lena says by way of excuse and regrets that too. She makes her way to the kitchen so she can add ‘wine’ to the list of mistakes and round out the evening nicely. "Do you want something to drink? Eat?"

"No thanks," Kara shrugs, meandering to the breakfast bar and setting her bag down next to it.

Lena takes the pizza box out of the fridge anyway, placing it on the counter and can’t help smile when Kara bashfully takes a slice. It’s a bit of normalcy, watching Kara eat, but this is hardly normal.

"You really don't have to do this," Lena starts. "Stay here, I mean. It can't be comfortable and I don't want you to feel..."

"-We're talking about your _life_ Lena,” Kara says quickly. “I told you, I’m here for you. Always."

“Okay...” though it’s anything but. “I’ll get some sheets out of the linen closet and I’ll set you up in the bedroom.”

“Oh, the couch is fine.”

Lena looks from Kara to the couch, and back. “Nonsense. You’re my guest-”

“-who’s here to make things easier on you. Seriously Lena, I’ll be fine.”

Lena feels itchy with anxiety, brain whirring the way it does when things stray from what she’d expected. “Can I get you some pajamas at least?”

Kara glances down at her small suitcase, but must notice the way Lena’s hands are fiddling because she acquiesces. “Sure. That sounds great.”

“Alright, be right back,” and Lena makes her way to the bedroom. She feels animatronic, like she’s trading bad video game narrative and she just wants to skip through it, or just warp to the next level.

Staring at her pajama options, realization dawns that she’s just agreed to clothe Kara in something of her own, which involves seeing Kara in her sleep wear _and_ _oh god was this a terrible idea_. Lena stops that train of thought and selects the most ubiquitous pajamas pants and top she owns (and tries not to picture Kara in just or the other).

Returning to the common area, she deposits the clean sheets and comforter on the couch, and all but shoves the pajamas into Kara’s hands. “Here.”

“Uh, thanks,” Kara says, smiling as she examines them. “You have sushi print pajamas?”

“They were a gift,” Lena says airily. A gift to herself, but still true. “Anyway, I’m going to bed. Feel free to use the TV, or eat anything in the kitchen.”

“It’s only 8:15,” Kara says, confusion written all over her face. “I was thinking we could watch a movie or something?”

Kara. In her apartment. On her couch. Wearing her pajamas. It’s everything that Lena’s daydreamed about, but under completely different circumstances.

It’s domesticity, it’s ease, it’s… it’s what Lena imagined a love might be like. A familiar dance around each other in the kitchen in the morning as they get ready to leave for work. Cuddling on her couch, binge watching Parks and Rec and eating ice cream. These are the dreams that keep Lena up at night, the absurd fantasies she clings to that keep her saying ‘yes’ to things when she really should say ‘no’.

Now, there’s a good possibility that she will get to experience those things. But platonically. And with the ever present knowledge that Kara knows how she feels and doesn’t reciprocate it.

It’s exquisite, beautiful torture, and also more than she ever expected and deserves.

“I- no thank you.” Lena finally manages, and the disappointment that settles on her Kara’s face makes Lena want recant the decision and binge watch all fifteen seasons of _ER_ with her instead.

She doesn’t though (somehow) and they both stand awkwardly in the kitchen, Kara still holding the bundle of clothes. Lena feels like a deer in an open field and decides extricates herself as fast as possible. “Well, goodnight!” Kara’s own ‘goodnight’ chasing after her as she rushes back to the sanctuary of her room.

Lena spends the next several hours watching _Great British Bake Off_ on her laptop and trying to forget that Kara Danvers is on her couch, just outside. It takes a tremendous amount of willpower not to go back out, and she is totally successful…

…Until 3am, when breaks down and finally allows herself to creep to the kitchen under the pretense of getting a glass of water.

Kara is there on the couch, dead asleep, long limbs sprawled haphazardly and covers bunched at the floor next to her. She picks up the blanket, laying gingerly it over Kara, and the whole thing feels intimate in a way she shouldn’t be privy to. She’ll make Kara leave tomorrow, but for tonight, just tonight, maybe she can let herself imagine it’s reality. Having Kara here.

Having Kara.

Lena returns to her bed with that delusion firmly in mind and ends up sleeping more soundly than she has in months.

Next morning she finds her apartment empty, which elicits a tinge of disappointment she knows she shouldn’t have. The twelve texts, hand written note, and a Tupperware of pancakes Kara’s left in her wake, only make her guilt deepen.

The blanket and pillow are folded neatly at the end of the couch. Lena smooths and hand over them, an unconscious Third-party connection to the person who left them.

_This is wrong, so wrong._

She’ll make Kara leave tomorrow.

Or at the very least, she’ll try.

*_*_*

“So I hear you have a new live-in caretaker.”

She knew this was coming. Alex is Kara’s sister, after all.

Any intentions Lena had of asking Kara to leave that first morning-after were thwarted Almost the moment she woke up. When she laid eyes on Kara, in her kitchen, adorably bed-headed and cooking them both pancakes, it was all over. The scene was too much of what she wanted and Lena is far too weak, too selfish right now to overcome it. That was two days ago. “Not by choice. I tried to tell her not to.”

“Yeah I’m sure you tried _so hard_.”

There’s a lilt of kidding lacing the comment, and when Lena looks up, Alex doesn’t have her usual frown on. Which is weird. It’s more of a knowing look, like she has a missing puzzle piece that Lena just can’t grasp. It’s incredibly annoying. “My only friend insisting on a front row seat to my messy demise is hardly ideal.”

“Then why did you say yes?”

Lena crosses her arms, lets out a little huff of indignation that she can’t fully commit to, because now Alex Danvers has a very, very tiny smirk on her face.

Still, she rallies, mustering one of Lillian’s Greatest Scathing Looks when she finally speaks again. “Look, unless you have something else to say to me in a more official capacity, I think we’re done."

The smirk chases away, and she watches as Alex’s jaw tightens, clamping over something Lena can’t quite decipher. In the end though, the Agent simply nods. “You got it.”

She packs her things silently and something within Lena starts to fray a bit. “Sorry,” she starts. “I just… I'm… I could die, probably will? Soon. And I’m..." She can’t finish, shakes her head instead and feels fringes of desperation seeping in.

"Or, you could feed."

“We’ve been over that,” Lena sighs. “The sheer volume of small animals I’d need- It’d be like trying to jump start an 18-Wheeler with a Power Wheels. I’m not exactly happy about the idea of _one_ chicken dying, let alone hundreds…”

“I didn’t mean animals.”

Lena snaps to attention at that. "I’d thought we went over that too,” she bites. “I am _not_ hurting someone or something for my own gain, if that’s what you’re suggesting."

The other woman avoids her eyes, studying the blood pressure cuff in her hand instead. “I’m suggesting that…I mean, what if the person you fed from did something terrible? Like, say, a person- or even alien- who committed genocide. Someone or something already condemned to a lifetime of incarceration with no hope of parole. Someone that _deserves_ to die. If you had access, if someone provided access, would you consider feeding off them?"

Lena stares. “Is this a hypothetical or an offer Agent Danvers?”

“It’s a question,” Alex says, but the answer is clear.

There’s a short pause, each studying the other, before Lena finally answers evenly. "No one deserves to die.”

Alex sighs heavily, nods. “Of course. Yes, you’re right,” though doesn’t look any more satisfied with that answer than Lena is.

Lena knows it’s the right answer, the proper thing to say, and she’s glad she said it.

Even if neither of them neither of them fully believe it.

  


*_*_*

  


“Of course it doesn’t work- of _course_ not- why would it? Miserable fecking- ugh!”

The Petri dish holding the latest failed cure trial sits there, silently mocking her. It takes a lot of restraint not to hurl it across the room, and the urge to do so makes her think of Jack once again, darkening her mood further.

MIT had been a fantastic time. It felt like she spent her whole life waiting for that moment, to finally have the freedom and space from her family to become who she wanted to be. Everything felt novel and intense, enticing and overwhelming. Jack was part of that too of course. Being courted, wooed, and appreciated for something other than her last name- that kind of attention was intoxicating. They were silly, they were passionate, and as usual she let herself get carried away. With all of it.

She still should have known better.

Fourteen hour days in the lab, living off caffeine and cheap vodka, they’d stumble outside, snowflakes illuminated by patches of streetlights. Snowball fights turned into snow wrestling and when he kissed her she felt so strongly that this was how love should be. Logical. Convenient. Easy.

It was only at night without the distractions of lab work, long after the hum and buzz of the day has settled, that she’d allow herself to notice the disquiet inside. Alone in the dark, she could feel the void, something missing or not quite right. She knew following that feeling would most certainly lead to losing Jack though, and she wasn’t ready to be alone again.

In her youth there was a girl, Annie. She was the daughter of one of Lionel’s Right Hand men. Fourteen years old to Lena’s blushing twelve, the two were inseparable for the summer the other family stayed at the Luthor mansion. It was a dream come true, especially for Lena, for whom friends had always been just out of reach.

Days spent running around the grounds or lounging in the library, and nights cuddled together under the covers sharing secrets. Even pressed together in the guest bed, Lena felt like she just couldn’t get close enough and part of her _knew_ that what she was feeling wasn’t simply sororal.

Lena had never had a best friend before though, so she convinced herself to ignore those feelings and instead she letting her fill to the brim, to overflow with affection and… well, love.

But best friends didn’t kiss, didn’t feel a flush of arousal when tentative hands smoothed over the soft skin of her cheek. After Lillian caught them holding hands one night, talks ensued. About what being a Luthor entailed and what it did not. Annie and her family were sent away and Lena was forced to look at the relationship for what it was: infatuation parading as friendship.

Jack was the opposite. With him she tried to sculpt what she wanted, what she needed, over the armature of something completely different and subsequently the fit was always off because of it.

They always had the lab though, even towards the end. In the lab, they were still partners. There, the world always made sense and perhaps that was what made her transition to CEO so difficult- leaving the lab behind.

Maybe she deserves what she got, tampering with the Ixodis. Maybe her time away made her lax, made her complacent, made her miss something.

_Maybe Jack was right and she shouldn’t have left at all._

If she’d stayed, she wouldn’t have had to deal with meetings, with galas or budgets, firings or death threats. Lillian would have gone on ignoring her existence, as would have Lex. And yes, on the other hand, it she wouldn’t have met Kara. How the weight of those things balance out is very telling indeed.

Pushing aside the past, Lena focuses on the present, disposing the remnants of the ruined sample, and cleaning up. Her body aches from her day upstairs and down, and she’s sure the added stress of _dying_ isn’t helping.

Fishing her phone out of her pocket, she finds twelve texts from Kara. The last seven or so are about dinner, what Kara’s making and inquires as to when Lena will be home.

It’s odd, the idea of someone waiting for her at home. Even she and Jack never lived together. It’s odd sharing her space at all let alone with someone who’s very proximity makes Lena’s heart palpitate. And while Lena probably does need more assistance at home, that attraction makes it hard to justify keeping Kara there. To keep lying to herself, to Kara, to keep pretending.

As she moves to door, closing out for the night, she takes one last look at her lab, and imagines a world where she had just stayed. Stayed in that lab in Metropolis, with her work, with Jack. It was simpler, yes, but still as much a lie as her life is today. Just a different one.

She shuts off the light, locks the door, and tries to leave those regrets in the dark where the belong.

*_*_*

Lena knew the media would catch on, she just didn’t anticipate this quickly. It shouldn’t come as a surprise; they’ve been eagerly awaiting her failures since the moment she first moved to National City.

 _She thinks of Clark Kent, his judgements that first day… of and Kara, bright eyed and innocent, chasing at his heels_.

There are several articles about Lena’s subtle retreat from the public eye, as well as quotes from an ‘inside source’ about her further retreat within the company. She reads each and every one of course, and makes a mental note to fire Adams from the board- the quotes have his fingerprints all over them.

Stocks take a hard hit by 10am. Not quite to the _CEO incarcerated for probable Cadmus involvement_ level, but close. A few trashy tabloids publish candids they've snapped of her looking especially sallow. Her long gloves and giant sunglasses giving a distinct Deteriorating Shut-In Look, certainly doesn’t help.

Bold print proposes everything from being on drugs, to illegal experiments on aliens (they’re not far off on that one). She’s holding the company together as best she can but it feels like things are slipping through her fingers.

Things aren’t going much better with her search for a cure. It was only a short few years ago she was pulling all-nighters with Jack, propelled by caffeine and a sense of moral purpose alone. Now, courtesy of the disease, she finds she only has the physical stamina for a couple hours before she catches herself nodding off, making silly mistakes.

She will not abide by sloppiness, especially because that’s likely what got her into this in the first place. So when she leaves a little earlier each time, if she gives into defeat a little quicker, she tells herself has more do with not wanting error by exhaustion rather than the fact she has Kara waiting for her at home.

Lena’s body, her company, and her legacy are all crumbling underneath her. Is it so wrong that she’s drawn the to the solid, steadfast care and company of her best friend?

_Yes. Yes it is._

Because Kara shouldn’t be there at all. Because Kara is not a partner fulfilling a vow, as their other half goes not-so-gently into that good night. Kara is _a friend,_ living in Lena’s home out of the same kind of innate moral obligation that makes people catch and release the spider in the bathroom instead of squashing it. (Or just leaving it to die, for that matter.)

Kara is only in Lena’s kitchen cooking dinner because Lena is too fatigued and apathetic to do so. She’s only living in Lena’s apartment because Lena could collapse at any moment and no one would know. And if Kara reaches over and tangles her fingers in Lena’s gloved ones, it’s out of a sense of pity, nothing more.

There are moments though- _no_. Lena tries to cut off those thoughts before they grow because they are absurd. Logically, she knows if she catches Kara’s gaze flitting over her body, if she senses a shift in the energy between them when they stand a little too close, that it’s nothing more than wishful thinking on Lena’s part. A dying brain’s hallucinations blurring the boundary between fantasy and reality.

_Maybe she should report that to Alex. Additional cognitive decline data might be a helpful addition to the documentation._

“Whatcha thinking about?” Kara’s question pulls her back to reality.

“The slow and steady decline unto death.”

“Ugh, sorry I asked.” Kara rolls her eyes discarding the book she was reading. It was something randomly plucked off the shelf after Lena refused help with her current project of sorting through her home office. Kara shifts in the old arm chair to get a better view of Lena where she sits, papers spread out on the rug around her. “Are you seriously going to spend your time going through old paperwork?”

“Considering this is my _personal_ paperwork, yes,” Lena spares Kara a glance. “There may be things in here that I wouldn’t want others to see if I weren’t around any more.”

Kara reaches down, snapping up one of the papers in question. It’s a dizzying mishmosh of equations and angular drawings, mostly scratched out, with arrows everywhere. “I think most people wouldn’t even know what language this was.”

Lena leans over, taking it from Kara and smiles before putting it in the shred pile. “Even still.” Lean moves onto the next notebook and can’t help but let out a surprised little “oh” when she recognizes what’s on the first page.

“What is it?” Kara asks, already making her way to sit next to Lena.

“Just something silly a therapist made me do years ago, it’s nothing,” but Kara’s eyes go wide, smile stretching as she reads the written header at the top of the page.

“A bucket list!” Kara exclaims, craning her neck taking a closer look.

Lena is quick to close the notebook, setting it beside her. “Like I said, nothing important-“

“-Are you kidding?! It’s _totally_ important. We could work on it, cross some stuff off and-“

“- _No_.” It’s a bit firmer than Lena intended but it does stop Kara’s babbling. “Sorry I just, that’s not how I want to spend my time. On foolish wishes and impractical experiences. It’s just not.”

Kara looks like she wants to retort, but declines to do so. “Okay,” she says instead, and then quieter, “If there were other things though… things you did want to do…?”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

“Good.” She makes a move to stand, but stops, turning back to Lena. “I just… I just want you to think about it, okay? Will you? Think about what you want?”

Looking at Kara, Lena wants to shout that she knows what she wants, _who_ she wants, but saying that would be nothing but selfish. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thanks,” and this time when Kara stands, she offers a hand out to Lena. “It’s time we get some dinner, I think.”

Lena grins, “Is that what _you_ want?”

“Yeah, and you need to eat too, so let’s go.”

Lena provides a gloved hand and lets Kara pull her up gently. For a moment they’re standing close, so close Lena can smell Kara’s shampoo, and in the wake of her previous thought pattern, she’s quick to step back and add some space between them.

“Lead the way,” Lena says, evening out her words. She gives Kara’s hand a squeeze before letting go, “I’ll be right out, just want to tidy up a moment first.”

Kara gives her an odd look, but heads out to the kitchen anyway. Lena makes sure her friend is all the way out of sight, before retrieving the notebook with the list in it again.

She smiles as she reads down the list. Her therapist said not to limit herself and out of stubborn pettiness Lena the first five or ten items listed are things that are quite impossible- “dance with Ginger Rogers” and “visit Saturn”. Further down, she decided to give it a go for real. She remembers those items (learning new skills, traveling to certain places) were shockingly difficult to to figure out. It has harder still, to stop herself from needing justification for or dismissing those wants all together.

Not much has changed since she was fifteen. She still feels undeserving, still feels the need to put things off until this undetermined “after”. After she proves herself, after she atones for her family. After, after after- it’s an after that may never come now. A fresh wave of sadness washes over her again, at that: the missed opportunities. The life she denied herself until it was too late.

“Sandwiches are ready!” Kara calls from the kitchen.

“Be right there!” Lena replies, and is about to toss the notebook in the shed pile when she notices something towards the bottom of the list. She remembers telling herself she wrote it to ‘please’ her therapist, but that was as much a lie then as it is now.

Still, it’s there, the words _‘fall in love’_ in her own small scratchy handwriting. Perhaps it’s the same streak of stubbornness, this time a refusal to give up rather than to give in, that keeps her from throwing the list away. That same stubborn hope that maybe there really could be an ‘after’, a time where she could be worthy of those things.

She tucks the notebook back on the shelf, just for now. She can wait to discard dreams until after lunch.

*_*_*_*_*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have plans to address Kara's perceived lack-of-panic about the situation eventually, probably in a single chapter from her point of view (though honestly an entire separate fic running on a parallel timeline to this one, from her POV, would better and more fun) but for now please just know it's intentional. :) Thanks again for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the impromtu chapter of the story so far, from Kara's point of view. Putting this in now before we go back to Lena's POV and the plot really gets crazy. :)

*_*_*_*_*

It’s a LOT to take in.

Winn spouts the science of it rapid fire, Kara ignoring all of it for the moment save the part where if her best friend touches someone she “ _sucks the life out of them, like Rogue, you know, from X-Men?”_

Alex, meanwhile is going on and on about safety. About others’ safety from Lena. When she gets to the part where says they need to assess if Lena “did this on purpose”, Kara’s had enough. Walking off, she heads inside the first empty room she comes to and sinks to the floor.

It’s emotional whiplash. One minutes she learning Lena’s had feelings for her for almost their entire friendship and the next moment- literally _the next moment_ \- Lena’s accidentally killed someone and may be dying herself.

Kara’s so lost in thought she barely hears Alex come in.

“Hey,” Alex says softly, slowly approaching the spot on the floor Kara is sitting.

“Hey,” Kara says glumly.

“How are you doing?”

“Well, I just learned my best friend has been turned into a life-sucking parasite, so I’ve been better.”

“She’s not a parasite,” Alex rolls her eyes, but sits down next to Kara. “The fact is there’s a lot we don’t know right now. How she got exposed to this Ixodis stuff, or why. We need to talk to Lena first, to know what it is we’re really dealing with here.” She pauses, biting her lip. “Which is why I’m going to need to know if you can reign yourself in. Keep it check when we go in there, so I can actually get those facts from her.”

“Are you saying I can't keep a poker face when I need to?”

“I’m saying right now I need Supergirl in there, not Kara Danvers.”

The fact that there’s still a different between those two for Lena still makes her feel even worse. She forces herself to put it aside, straightens her spine, presses her thoughts back down- readies herself to put on the Supergirl persona. “Yeah. Got it.”

She stands and follows Alex out, towards the containment cells, and chews on that fact that if things are as bad as Winn and Alex say, maybe it’s better that Lena will have two friends in her, rather than just one. 

*_*_*

It’s hard to watch Alex interrogate Lena. It’s harder still for Kara to hold back all her thoughts, questions, feelings when it’s just the two of them. She manages though, and the first thing Kara sees when she exits the containment hall, is her sister, arms crossed and waiting.

“What?”

“You want to talk about it?” Alex offers.

“I want to talk about what’s next,” Kara says, deflecting.

“What’s next is ‘Wait and see’. J’onn has the lab techs pausing all other projects to work on this.”

“Okay, but what can _I_ do?” she says pointing at herself, poking her family crest.

Alex brow furrows, “As Supergirl? Nothing. But I have a feeling Kara Danvers could help. Lena could really use a friend right now.”

Kara’s stomach knots. “I’m not so sure she’d want to see me actually…”

“Why? What happened?”

 _No._ She’s not ready to talk about this yet. Not before she’s been able to process it herself. “Nothing.”

Alex gives her a look that clearly indicates she doesn't’ believe Kara, but lets it go thankfully. “Alright. I’ll call you with any updates.”

“Thanks Alex.”

Kara doesn’t dawdle long. She shoots off towards home almost immediately, entering through her apartment window and flopping straight down on the couch.

Almost exactly where she was with Lena hours earlier.

Sitting up, elbows on thighs, she grinds the palms of her hands into her eyes as if trying to get more clarity.

_This is such a mess._

Lena needs her right now, possibly more than ever… but ‘Kara’ just told her she needs some time to think things over. ‘Things’ being how Lena has feelings for her. And _that_ is a lot to deal with right there.

But dealing with that is totally not as important as being there- as a friend- for Lena. Nothing is as important as that and Lena has to know that too, right? Lena will call her best friend about this still. Because she has to understand, to trust and know Kara is going to be there for her no matter what, especially with something this big?

Suddenly Kara _needs_ Lena to call, because doing so means they’re okay.

“She totally will.” Kara says to her empty apartment. “She’ll getting home and she’ll call and I’ll go over there and…” Well, she’s not too sure what will happen after that, but she knows they’ll figure it out. They always do.

Kara takes her phone from her boot, places it on the table next to her and pumps up the ringer volume on high. She superspeeds into Kara Danvers clothes, and settles back down in the same spot on the couch.

Clicking the TV on, she throws on some Parks and Rec, tries to get lost in the good natured humor, and waits for Lena’s call.

*_*_*

Lena doesn’t call.

Which causes Kara to impulsively storm into her office and make _abundantly clear_ she knows that Kara isn’t going anywhere. And then force-invites her to dinner at Kara’s.

_And Rao, is it awkward._

Kara’s not sure how to behave, realizing way too late how uncomfortable it might be for Lena to the apartment so freshly after all that went down. Kara wasn’t sure what else to do though. She wants- _has to_ \- be there for Lena. Has to make sure Lena has a friend, has a support, in this very difficult time.

And yeah, maybe this is a little bit about Kara too. There this thing hanging between them now, this stated attraction, and Kara… she just wants to make sure things work out. Between them. That they, as a friendship unit, are okay.

They bumble through the rest of dinner, and thankfully part ways with the agreement to basically pretend things are okay. Pretend. For the sake of keeping things as stable as possible so they can deal with Lena’s situation.

If that’s what Lena needs, Kara is going to do it.

*_*_*

Supergirl is another story. Having Lena unaware of her alter-ego is horrible most of the time, but right now there is one advantage: It allows Kara to play Good Cop/Bad Cop.

She checks on Lena, as Supergirl. It doesn’t go very smoothly. Hands on her hips, Kara struts around in her hero persona and says the things that Supportive!Kara can’t. Like how Lena can’t give up. How she needs to keep fighting.

That’s when Lena tells her she doesn’t plan to feed. At all. At any point. And it rocks Kara to her core.

Lena dismisses her before Kara can process that further but she spends the rest of the night flying circles around the city, trying to wrap her mind around the implications of it.

*_*_*

Operation Pretend Nothing’s Different Between Them continues on. The hitch is, the closer Kara gets to the situation, the more Lena pulls away. (Or maybe the more Lena pulls away, the closer Kara wants to get?)

Either way it’s a tangled mess. She did manage a win tonight though, getting Lena to open up and feel her feelings finally. She held Lena as Lena cried, and cried and now they’re laying down together in Kara’s bed coming down off the high of all the pain released.

Maybe it’s the late hour, or the intensity of feelings swirling through the evening, but Kara can’t help but to reach out and touch. _Safety first_ fades to the background as her attention shifts. She loses herself in the action, sliding her hand over Lena’s clothed shoulder, her back. It’s meant to sooth her friend (which it obviously does considering how fast Lena relaxes, starts to fall asleep) but Kara guiltily knows there’s more to it. Touch has always been part of their relationship, but this feels indulgent on Kara’s part.

She wants to touch, to caress. And when she does it feels intimate in a way that pulls inside her and frightening in its intensity.

_It could have been like this._

Kara should pull her hand the moment the thought crosses her mind, but she doesn’t. She’s been avoiding the idea since Lena first introduced it and now, under cover of darkness, she lets herself pretend for a moment. Pretend it was like this, just to see how it could be.

“Just for tonight,” Kara mumbles to herself as she drifts off. _Just for tonight._  


*_*_*

She’s really in over her head now.

Kara tries to run over the sequence of events that led her to MOVE IN WITH LENA, and honestly cannot really piece together how it happened.

Okay, that’s a lie. She sort of knows.

Since that night in Kara’s bed, she’s done a good job not thinking about what she’s not supposed to think about. _She has_. But now as she lays on Lena’s couch, in Lena’s sushi print pajamas, it strikes her how crazy it is that she hasn’t thought about it prior to all this. Especially in retrospect with how completely obvious Lena has been about her affections. The flirting. The ‘Kara Danvers, you are my hero’...

 _She filled your entire office with flowers and you didn’t see it_ , Kara thinks, and wants to slap herself in the forehead.

She wasn’t unaffected by those things at the time of course. Lena’s compliments and gestures have always made Kara blush. Made her feel special and wanted, and loved. They were extra special, coming from Lena.

Kara lays, looking at the ceiling and thinks about that almost kiss. How, as Lena inched in and how Kara paused before reacting. Paused because it sort of felt natural, like it made sense. Then, of course Kara’s brain caught up and realized how little sense it made as far as she knew.

Now of course she has all the pieces, all the information about Lena’s feelings from Lena’s side, but none from her own. Gathering her own thoughts isn’t really an option, exploring something with Lena isn’t really an option either. For what feels like the millionth time, Kara reminds herself that her friend is going through something terrible, and she doesn’t need Kara being unsure, or experimenting, or exploring, or anything but fully focused on being a friend. Like Alex said, she needs to just be there for Lena, be a port in the storm. And if they somehow weather this and make it through, maybe that will be the time for Kara to let herself go to that place.

Kara has full conviction in the plan but as she falls asleep that mental image of Lena above her, leaning in slowly, plays over and over.

She drifts off fighting very hard not to let it play all the way through.

  


*_*_*

“She _what?_!"

Alex’s outburst turns several DEO agent heads, so Kara pulls her into the nearest conference room before she continues. “ _I said_ that Lena tried to kiss me. Well, didn’t try, kinda slipped up. It was before the guy in the alley- like right before it actually- and then I said I needed some time, but then that guy attacked her, and then he was dead and Lena was all dying and I’ve been trying to just pretend it’s all cool and be there for her like you said, but then she passed out and now I said I’d live with her and-"

“- whoa, whoa, information overload,” Alex grabs both of Kara’s gesticulating limbs and guides her sister to a chair. She pulls up another and sits across from her. “Let’s back it up a bit. Maybe to the part where Lena _tried to kiss you_.”

Kara takes a deep breath, let’s it out slowly. She has to talk about this or it’s going to eat her alive. Despite the multitude of disappointed looks she may have to endure from Alex, she knows her sister is the best person to do so with. “It was right before the attack from guy in the alley.”

“Okay- _And_? What happened?””

“ _And_ I asked her if she had feelings for me and she said she did but was trying not to. And then I told her I needed some time to process that and…” Kara bites her lip. “And then she left and was immediately attacked and killed that guy by accident.”

“Holy shit. Kara...” And there’s the disappointed look.

“I know, I know. It was really bad timing, believe me.”

“Well,” Alex sits back in her chair a bit, runs a hand through her hair. “How do you feel about it? The almost kiss.”

Kara slumps back as well. “When it happened, I didn't have time to feel about it really. She left and was attacked by that dude right after.”

“What about now? You’ve had some time. And you guys have been spending a lot of time together…”

“Well, that’s just it. I’ve been trying _not_ to think about it really. Because every time I do, I start to feel confused. I want to talk to her about it but I can’t because I can’t make this about me right now, Lena doesn't need that. She needs someone constant and stable and predictable. She needs her best friend and her best friend is going to keep the focus where it needs to be- on her. Like you said.”

“I said all that before I knew all this!” Alex blusters, throwing a hand up in defeat. “I mean she’s in love with you and here you are, hanging out all the time, pretending it didn’t change anything-”

“-I told her I’m moving in with her.”

Alex just blinks at that. “Okay, what the fuck Kar.”

“I know, _I know!_ But she keeps passing out, and I think she needs someone in-home to make sure she’s okay-”

“-There are services for that! People whose job it is to-”

“- _Strangers_ Alex!” Kara says cutting her sister off. “Lena doesn’t need more strangers in her business. That’s the whole point. She needs to be comfortable.”

“By living with someone she has unrequited feelings for 24/7.”

“I- I’m- not so sure it’s totally unrequited.”

“Oh?” Alex raises an eyebrow.

Kara heaves a big sigh and rocks a little back and forth in her chair. “I mean, I don’t know! _That’s the problem!_ And then there’s the fact that she doesn’t know about Supergirl. I mean- ha- it’s just such a- and I-” Kara pauses, tries to reset. “I mean, when I think about her though, about the idea of an ‘ _us’_ , there are times where I definitely feel…and then… but being around her all the time isn’t helping. Or maybe it is? I don’t know it’s just making it harder to figure out though.”

“So, you decided what you needed was to just U-Haul on in there to provide hospice services?”

“What I need is _time_ which is exactly what we don’t have. And I’m not about to tell her ‘maybe’. Not like this. Not when there’s a chance she…” Kara shakes her head, feels familiar sting of behind her eyes. “Not like this.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Kara, look at me.” Alex says, taking Kara’s hand. “I don’t think what you’re doing is wrong, or bad. Hell, I have no idea how something like this should go. What I am sure of is that Lena’s is lucky to have her friend there for her. That she’s alone.”

“She’s just sort of… giving up Alex,” Kara says, voice as watery as her eyes. “She’s just accepting it. And I’m trying to just be there and be upbeat and support her, but it’s killing me. I just feel so helpless.”

“Being there is all you can do, I think,: Alex says, moving closer to wrap her arm Kara, rubbing her back a bit. “But I don’t agree that you should keep your feelings inside. Especially now. It might hurt to talk about it, but keeping it inside isn’t helping either of you...”

Kara frowns, “I guess…”

“Just think about it,” Alex says, squeezing Kara once more before letting go. “Take it from someone who kept stuff inside for too long.”

Kara nods, “I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” Alex says, standing. “And you can talk about this with me, whenever too, okay?”

“Okay.”

*_*_*

“She has a bucket list Alex!”

“ _‘Hey Alex, how’s it going? Sorry for bothering you so late at night’_ , “ Alex grumps, moving out of the doorway so Kara can walk inside.

Kara flops down on the couch. “She has a little list of things she’s always wanted to do, and she refused to let me look at it or address them, said she didn’t want to waste her time on it.”

“Sounds like she may not want to waste her time on it.”

“That’s the talk of someone who’s given up. Alex, I think she’s given up.”

“I don’t know about that, but I think she’s facing reality. Reality is, she’s refusing to feed off of any one or anything. Even when I offered to feed the Gremorian to her…”

“You _what!?_ ” It’s Kara’s turn to gawk.

“You said do something! I was trying to be helpful!” Alex yelps back. “She said no anyway, so it doesn’t matter but, Kar,” pauses. “There really is a very good chance Lena might die...”

“No,” Kara shakes her. “I won’t give up on her. Especially now. Not when there’s so much- just no.”

“It’s not giving up. It’’s accepting reality.”

“Well I’m not going to do that either!” And god would she love to punch something right now. A car, a rogue alien, something. She just feels so helpless! “What would you do? If it were Maggie, instead of Lena.”

“You mean, what would I do if it was someone I was in love with?” Alex deadpans back.

“What would you do if it was someone you loved? If it was J’onn. Or Eliza. Or me.”

Alex pauses and looks down, gathers her thoughts. When she looks back up, her eyes are hard, deadly serious. “If it were you Kara,” she says. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do.”

“Yeah,” Kara nods. “Yeah.” She keeps nodding too, until the tears come. Alex wraps her up in her arms, holds her and lets her go long into the night.

When she’s done, she bid Alex goodnight and flies higher, faster, than usual. Alex’s words echoes in her ears as the whoosh of the wind whips around her, and Kara wonders- if it comes down to it- what it is she will be willing to do.

*_*_*_*_*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, so this is the chapter that warrants those trigger warnings in the tags. The ones warning you about non-sexual but non consensual touching. It's a scene where one person forces physical contact on someone who does not want it and includes the immediate negative emotional response to that situation.
> 
> The scene will be marked at the beginning and end with three equal signs like this: ===  
> It is meant to be rather intense so if that's not your bag, you can utilize the marking to skip over it with ease.
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy the turmoil. I promise there is a happy ending to this story eventually, it's just quite a ways down the road still.

*_*_*_*_*

  


She has approximately five days left when Supergirl lands on her office balcony again. It’s the first time in recollection that the hero hasn't waited for an invite before striding inside.

“I know what you’re doing,” she starts, striding up to Lena’s desk.

“And what is that exactly?” Lena asks, not looking up from the email she’s typing.

“You’re giving up.”

Lena takes a glance, just enough to acknowledge her, before returning her attention to the tablet. “On the contrary, I’ve been working quite diligently towards a cure.”

“And if you can’t find a cure in time?” Supergirl places both hands on the desk across from Lena, leaning over. It’s supposed to be intimidating, but Lena is too strung out and sleep deprived for it to register as anything but annoying.

“Then I suppose you’ll have to find a new balcony to visit.”

“That’s not funny.”

“The truth rarely is.”

“Damn it!” Supergirl growls, punctuating it by slapping her palm on the desk. It’s more sound than power but it startles Lena so much she jumps, pushing her chair back from the desk entirely.

“After everything you’ve been through and fought for," Supergirl continues, unphased. "After _everything_ , you're just going to roll over and give up? You can’t.”

It takes a second to compose herself (movement of any kind has been taking a lot out of her lately) but Lena makes an effort to straighten her posture, to stand unassisted and defiant. “It’s my life. And I can do whatever I damn well please with it.”

"Agent Danvers offered to provide someone for you to feed from. Why didn't you take it?"

The hero's tone is almost importune, or maybe closer to that of a disappointed parent asking an obstinate why they didn’t meet their expectations. Either way, it makes Lena want to scream because _how_ is that still what everyone expects of her? She’s spent most of her life and all of her career beating her head against a wall trying to show people that she's different, that she is not that person who just _takes_ , who destroys.

Mustering all she has, Lena flattens her anger, compacts it into a hard pill and swallows it. She stalks around her desk until she’s facing the Super once more. “The last thing I’ll ever do is hurt someone else, for my own benefit.” _There’s already enough to atone for,_ she thinks.

“So that’s it then. You’re just going to, what? Let yourself fade away?”

“I’ve put my affairs in order.” Lena says quietly.

“What about Kara Danvers?”

Her eyes shoot up, reacting before she can stop herself. “That, is none of your business.”

Supergirl’s expression has shifted from anger to something far more complex and Lena would rather not look at any longer.

“I have a lot of work to do and have a very finite timeline to do it in." Lena says, sitting down and focusing attention on her computer once more. "You can leave the way you came in.”

*_*_*

  


Lena falls in the shower.

She doesn’t seriously hurt anything but her pride but Kara comes rushing in Lena has to hurry to cover herself with the shower curtain, for modesty’s sake.

“Are you okay!?”

“I’m fine,” Lena replies, though she can already feel the bruises forming. She goes to push herself up but her arm buckles and she collapses again.

“Let me help.” Kara says softly and it takes everything Lena has not to cry at this point. Instead, she gives a silent nod, consenting.

Kara leaves to get some rubber dish gloves from the kitchen sink and Lena spends few short moments alone wishing she could disappear entirely. This is humiliating on so, so many levels.

When Kara gets back, she knees down next to the tub. “Did you finish washing? Because if you want, I could…”

Okay, now Lena _really_ wishes she could disappear. It takes a lot of corralling of pride to get her to nod again this time but she had barely gotten soap to skin before falling and if she’s had to endure this embarrassment so far, she might as well be clean at the end of it.

It is with the utmost tenderness that Kara lathers up the loofa and applies it to her skin. Lena hugs her knees to her chest the entire time, covering herself as best she can, while Kara washes her shoulders and back before moving on to tend to her hair.

A dollop of shampoo is applied and then strong fingers are raking slowly over her head and it. Is. Heaven. Her body sags from relief, starts to unwind from the level of tension she’s twisted herself to the brink of. Kara must sense it because the shampooing shifts slightly, becoming more of a scalp massage and Lena- the gluttonous, touch-starved monster that she is- allows it. When she accidently lets slip the beginning of a soft moan, as Kara starts to run fingers over the base of her neck, they both bring things to a screeching halt. Lena wants to crawl in a hole and die and she can almost _feel_ Kara's blush.

“Sorry,” Lena says, face still hidden as much as she can. “It’s just... nice to be touched.”

“Yeah, no totally, I get that I just- yeah,” Kara bumbles above her, thankfully beginning the rinsing process. She turns away to give Lena a few minutes to wash the rest of herself and when it comes time to help Lena out of the tub, they both make a show of looking away.

“I have it from here,” Lena says, quickly wrapping a towel around herself, leaning heavily on the counter.

“Okay, okay, yeah just-uh- call if you need me. For anything else.” Kara says quickly, moving towards the exit. Oddly Kara stutter steps a moment as her eyes land on the sight of Lena’s cleavage, popping out of the grey towel wrapped around her. It’s only a moment, though, before she’s darting out the door once more. _Weird_.

Alone again, Lena takes her time drying off, careful to keep her balance. She’d like to chalk it up to just a little vertigo, but the lightheaded feeling that overtook her is starting to edge in on her days more and more.

She’s weak. So weak. Alex has said as much as well- in the most detached clinical manner the woman can- but they’re both women of science so the translation is far from lost.

Most of the people Lena’s known have died or left her fairly young. She never really been exposed to this- to physical decline, to the slow betrayal and breakdown of the body. She’s never much thought of her own decline either because ,honestly, she hardly ever thought she’d make it this far.

Now it’s too late. Too late to squeeze things into a life she took for granted would be there for her when she was ready. She’s too weak, to frail, too late. Lex always told her timing was everything- though he lacked the patience Lena acquired to really make the most of that strategy. Maybe that’s the lesson learned in hindsight. _Don’t wait_.

Dry and wrapped in her favorite dark green bathrobe, Lena makes her way back to the living room. She feels steadier on her feet, but still a bit shaky. The image of her using a cane pops into her head and for some reason all the cartoon depictions of wealthy people with canes follows and she can’t help but bark out a laugh. Maybe she’ll get a top hat and a monocle to finish the image.

“What’s so funny?” Kara asks, at her elbow.

“Oh, nothing Darling,” she chuckles, before realizing what she’s said.

Kara has an odd look on her face and Lena clears her throat before continuing. “Did you want to watch a movie,” then at Kara’s hands where they’ve taken hold of her elbow for support, “I’m fine, really.”

“Actually, I want to show you something,” Kara says, beginning to guide Lena towards the other side of the room.

That’s when Lena notices the bulky, sheet-covered item next to the window. “What is it?”

Kara’s only answer is a grin as she leaves Lena’s side in favor of ripping off the sheet in reveal.

“Oh!” and she can’t help but smile as well when she sees the shiny bass guitar settled upright in a stand and a smallish amp to accompany it.

“It was the only thing I saw on that bucket list thing before you took it away- ‘learn to play bass guitar’,” Kara shrugs, back at her side once more.

Lena steps forward and runs a finger over she shiny curves of the instrument’s body. She remembers why she wrote that. It was when Lex was learning drums- one of his many flash in the pan obsessions. He was emphatic that Lena should learn bass. ‘ _We could be like the White Stripes, only, you know, good_ ’ he’d joked and his enthusiasm was so infectious that she spent the next week looking up lessons and famous bass players. Lex moved on from the drums in another week or so, but the idea remained with Lena a few more years (and long enough apparently to have made her therapist-prescribed list).

“It’s all tuned and everything,” Kara says, flicking on the amp and bringing the bass to life with a vital hum.

Lena leans forward hesitantly and plucks a string. The deep noise vibrates through her and the room, sad and low, like a funeral dirge, and suddenly Lena’s brought back to reality once more.

“I asked the guy the best way to learn in a hurry and he gave me this,” Kara takes a book of tabs from the windowsill, handing it to her.

A swirl of negativity continues to build because she knows she’ll never open this book, never move that bass from it’s stand, never have a chance to. Yet she’s overwhelmed by the sentiment of it. Kara’s kindness continues to draw sharp contrast to Lena reality, the actual hopelessness of it, but by god she’s put Kara through enough she’s not about to ruin her optimism too.

“Kara, this was so very thoughtful, thank you,” she says, and means that at least.

“Your welcome. I just thought- it’s never too late, you know?"

Kara punctuates it with a squeeze to Lena’s arm, and Lena pulls a smile onto her face as best she can. “Thank you. Really. I’m getting a little tired though- maybe let’s watch that movie?”

Thankfully, Kara listens, flipping off the amp and guiding Lena by the elbow back to the couch. Lena falls asleep long before the characters make it to gas mining colony at Cloud City, long before her childhood hero is encased in Carbonite. Which is good, because Lena’s headspace is already dark, and another reminder of life and love lost before it could begin, would just be redundant.

*_*_*

“You have no idea how to fix this do you?”

To her credit, Alex doesn’t even flinch, “No.”

“Neither do I,” Lena says glumly.

Four days left and Lena is starting to feel panicked. She didn’t think she would, if anyone had asked prior, she would have said she’d made peace with her demise long ago. That was before the Ixodis left her without a choice, though. That was before she revealed her feelings to Kara. Now, she feels like she’s drowning, sinking with no way to resurface.

“Kara…” Lena begins, and stops. _Is she even of enough importance in the grand scheme of things, to have this conversation with Kara’s sister?_

Lena isn’t sure what to expect really or which of the possible reactions she’s imagined will really hurt her the most. She’s still not sure because she doesn't get one. Alex simply adjusts so she’s facing Lena more fully, and waits.

“I care about her. A lot.” And oh, it’s been a while since Lena’s felt like this much a child. “But as much as I want to have her with me every moment I’m still able, I can’t if it’s at her expense.”

Lena’s mouth has gone dry. She could stop her, she could, but that’s not what she really wants to get across. “So, do I ask her to leave, and secondly, do accept her answer if insists on staying?

“You’re asking _me_ this.” Alex says tersely. “ ‘Cause I’d say I’m more than a little biased.”

“ _I don’t have anyone else to ask_.” It comes out fast, all in a rush. “Please,” voice splintering under the weight of it. “I don’t know what to do.”

The woman bites the inside of her cheek. She crosses her arms lightly and shifts her weight to her other foot. “As her sister, I can say with pretty good certainty that whatever happens next, if Kara wants a front row seat, she’s going to have it.”

“She’s been acting very clingy. And at the same time like nothing is wrong?”

“Maybe she’s just trying to not worry you?” Alex offers. “Honestly, I think you need to be talking to her about this, not me.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Lena says glumly. Alex gathers her things to go, Lena following behind.

“Thank you,” she manages. “For listening.”

“No problem," Alex shrugs. "And for the record, yes. When she insists on staying, you should listen."

Lena nods. She’s just so tired lately, so tired. Too tired, and thinking about that, about confronting her feelings for and with Kara again, is too much. Just too much. Only days left now. It’ll be over soon enough.

  


*_*_*

  


_Three days left._

Three days an there’s still unfinished business because somehow things with Kara have become even more tangled.

It started with Kara’s not so subtle peek at her cleavage after what Lena has dubbed ‘The Shower Incident’. Lena is aware well aware there she has amble real estate in that area, but there is only one reason to be checking it out the way Kara was. You look at someone’s cleavage like that, when you’re interested.

Since then, there have been several other moments. Not just looks, but intimacies. It’s really the touching Kara is doing that’s giving Lena the most pause. It’s not longer, or more frequent necessarily. It’s one of those infuriating things that can’t be cataloged, something that defies explanation other than _she can tell the difference_.

Lately Kara touches her like someone who wants to be close in a totally different way than before, and it’s driving Lena crazy in the worst way possible. In a way that leaves her wound to the point that she’s honestly afraid that she might reach out and touch Kara too- and she is not about to risk killing her best friend.

The why of the situation is peculiar though. It was very clear when the near-kiss happened that Kara had never even considered Lena that way before. Yet her behavior since then has gotten more and more as though she were interested.

It makes her think of Robert.

Robert Newport was a very popular boy at her boarding school. He was good looking but completely vapid. He was absolutely the dumbest human being Lena has ever encountered, but his family was exceedingly rich- hence the popularity.

Lena had never given him much thought either way… until the day she found out he had a crush her. He asked her to their Winter Formal dance, and started spending time around her. She has been a bit of a pariah before- a combination of her last name as well as being younger by several years (skipped a few grades)- so suddenly being accepted by peers, welcomed to interact with them, was too good to turn down.

He fawned over her, had her over his house regularly after school (it was innocent enough, they mostly played computer games together) and she found herself paying more attention to him too. Almost looking for things to like about him, ways to return that affection. It’s only in retrospect back that Lena really noticed those subtle behavior changes in his favor and understand why. It felt good to be wanted. It felt so good in fact, that she convinced herself she wanted it too.

Robert ended up getting suspended for something supremely dumb (drove his car and parked it INSIDE a lecture hall because “I wanted to win the radio station contest but didn’t want to be late”) and his parents brought him back to the states. Lena was suspended from the popular social circles, and things returned to stasis.

The situation with Kara and her is reminiscent of the one with her towards Robert. Perhaps Kara is unconsciously returning the affection she knows Lena has, because she likes it? Because it’s nice to be wanted and she’s too polite not too? It’s the only reason Lena can think of and if that were the case, she can’t fault her friend for doing something that Lena’s done as well.

At the same time, it has to stop. It has to stop because even if Kara isn’t aware what she’s doing, Lena certainly is, and she’s not about to take advantage like some sort of letch.

“Hey you,” Kara smiles warmly as she comes through the door. She leaves her bag near the door and joins Lena in the kitchen. “Hard day?” she asks, rubbing a hand over the back of Lena’s sweatshirt affectionately.

Lena nods, biting her lip. It’s just the right pressure, and Kara’s movements shift from back and forth to making slow circles, waves, trailing all over and it feels so. good,

 _Too good_ , she thinks. _This really, really needs to stop._

“Kara?” Lena tries.

Kara’s hand only stills a moment before resuming the meandering pattern she’s tracing on the back of Lena’s shirt. “Yeah?”

Lena resists the urge to arch into the touch, especially knowing what has to happen next. “Kara, I’d like you to stop.”

“Stop what?” she asks, but removes her hand.

Lena finally straightens up, and is purposeful in the extra space she places between them. “I need you to stop being so… close.”

“I’m being careful.”

“It’s not just about the danger. It’s…” and a million excuses flood her brain, each as much a lie as the last. Lena dismisses them and pushes forward with the truth. “It’s confusing things for me, because sometimes it feels close in a sort of like a _more-than-friends_ way.” She takes a breath. “I know that’s not your intention but it’s still hard for me not to see it that way. To _want_ to see it that way.”

The crease of confusion in Kara’s brow only deepens. “I thought I was just being a good friend.”

And god if this isn’t the argument Lena made to herself, that kept her in denial for so many years. Still, while Lena has not had many friends, she’s pretty confident that there’s something a little different about this. “You _are_ a good friend. Too good sometimes. And I don’t want to take advantage of the situation, _because_ I want you to continue being my friend.”

“Okay well I… I won’t do that anymore then I guess.”

“Good.”

“Okay.”

Quiet settles, the banter from the TV in the living room fills the silence.

“I’m sorry,” Kara begins, her attention down at her hands. “I’ve had friends before, but I’ve never felt the kind of closeness that I do with you.” She shrugs. “I guess I’m just trying to figure this out too.”

Something shifts a bit and then Kara is biting her cheek, eyes welling a bit. “Maybe I’ve been a little extra close because…” she closes her eyes a moment, searching. “Lena, you’re so important to me and I… I just don’t want to lose you.”

Suddenly they’re not talking about losing just a friendship anymore. This time when Kara opens her eyes and steps around, steps closer, Lena pulls her in.

“I’m not ready- I won’t- I,” Kara’s words sputter and fade. Tears dampen Lena’s shirt in a way that gets her thinking about dangers of barrier thickness and saturation, but she can’t seem to bring herself to separate them. Not then, nor when they move to the couch, Kara falling asleep in her arms, sobs slowing until her breath is nothing more but a gentle rhythm.

Lena isn’t about to separate them. Untangling can wait another day.

  


*_*_*

  


"Stay home."

Lena buttons her blouse, her back to the door where Kara's just entered. It's day zero. It took Lena two hours to get ready this morning, having to stop several times to rest. Just remaining upright is a feat of pure will.

"I have work to do," Lena replies, carefully avoids looking that way as she gathers her blazer and phone. Kara forces it though, blocking the doorway until Lena looks her in the eye. Her friend makes no attempt to school her expression, to mask the concern and grief written all over her face.

It’s a continuation of the same conversation, starting day or so prior. Lena doesn’t know what switched, but Kara has forgone any apparent attempt to avoid reality and has been clingy, on the verge of tears, for the last 24 hours. As much as Lena was looking for some sort of emotional reaction now that she has it, it is unnerving. Kara’s has been begging her not to push, not to continue to go to work, to just stop and stay with her, at home.

“I don’t want you to go. I don’t… I don’t want to be without you.” And oh, the little crack in Kara’s voice splits Lena clean through the heart. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

" _Kara please_ ," she says quietly. They both know the end is near, but stopping would mean Lena is already there. Maybe that's why Kara finally steps out of the way.

"Thank you," Lena manages as she passes. She means it. Lena gathers the last of her things, only pausing at the front door. "See you tonight."

Kara is hugging herself and even as a single ear slips down her cheek she manages to somehow infuse hope in her watery smile. "Yeah," she sniffles. "Yeah, see you tonight."

Lena tries to focus on the positive. She never got to say goodbye to the others. Her biological mother, Lex, Jack.

At least this time she gets a goodbye.

*_*_*

===  


It’s late, but she’s still at her desk, and the hunger she feeling has nothing to do with food. The whiskey helps. It makes her feel warm and hollow.

The end is close now, she can feel it, and there’s the overwhelming urge to slink off like a cat. To find a secluded spot to lay down for good.

Eyes slipping closed off and on, it’s the cold chill whipping at the back of her neck that alerts her she's not alone. "What are you doing here?"

The hero stands in the balcony doorway, face silhouetted dark against moonlit city. "Ms. Luthor, you're going to die if you don't feed off someone. Please, feed off me."

Something resembling a laugh escapes her lips. "It was Lex's ambition to kill a Super, not mine."

“I’m not the only one this city depends on. It’s for greater good that you live."

"I am greater than no one and far from good," Lena slurs, taking another sip of her previously abandoned whisky. "Now please, respect my wishes and go."

" _No_."

Lena looks up as Supergirl makes her way to Lena’s desk. There’s something in her expression, something that Lena hasn't really seen before- at least not directed towards her. "What are you doing?" Lena asks. She stands up, shuffles backwards. "Supergirl. You're scaring me."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Luthor,” and the words are so quiet. “But if you won't drain from me voluntarily, I'm… I’m going to have to force you to."

Lena's eyes widen at that. Her back hits the wall, before she realizes she's back herself into a corner.

"Take off your gloves, please,” the alien says, moving on her slowly, now only a few feet away.

Lena tries to run but the superhero grabs her, holds Lena's arms against the wall with ease, like she was a toy doll.

She knows she’s screaming- obscenities, pleas- but the hold on her remains loose but solid. By contrast the alien is whispering something, soft shushes like Lena’s a panicking child that needs comforting and that makes her all the more enraged. She writhes, wrenches, fights until exhaustion takes over, until her muscles buckle, until her voice is hoarse.

Until she realizes there is no escape.

When Lena finally looks up at her captor, when she finally surrenders, it’s because she truly has nothing left. “Get on with it then.”

“I’m sorry,” Supergirl says as she leans in. When their foreheads touch together, Lena hisses. It feels like lighting striking a power line. The surge of energy flowing into her is 10x times as strong as the last time she’d felt it and all she’s picturing is the man in the alley, his lifeless eyes staring up at her.

This time when she fights to push Supergirl off, she sends the hero careening across the room. The alien smashes into the adjacent bookshelf and it’s hard to say which of them is more surprised byit. The transfer of energy must have transferred some of the Super’s powers as well.

"Get out," Lena wheezes, her chest tight with anxiety. She’s not sure what she’ll be forced do if the Superhero doesn’t listen.

Thankfully, there’s no need. Supergirl nods silently and gets up off the floor. She takes a wobbly step towards the balcony, before deciding to head towards the office door instead. The alien’s blanched skin is already regaining some color by the time she makes it to the threshold (which Lena prays indicates some of the stollen energy returning). She gives Lena one more look before she goes, something almost pleading, but Lena has nothing more to give or say. Supergirl rounds the corner and closes the door behind as she goes, leaving Lena alone in the grey shadows of her office.

Shock wears off eventually, and her body shakes. She’s sure when she lowered herself to the floor, but she’s happy to let the cold from the tile ground her a bit.

A memory echoes to the surface. Lex’s whispering to her in his study, half mad. _What if they decide to come after humans, Lena? What’s keeping them from destroying us all?_

She slams the floor with her fist, the stolen strength allowing her to make a sizable dent where it lands.

  


===

*_*_*

  


" _Lena_ ," Kara breathes. She stands from seat on the couch, but doesn't move any closer. 

It’s late. She wonders if Kara’s fell asleep on the couch waiting for her. If she thought Lena would be back at all.

Lena goes to speak, to lie, but can't. She ends up just shaking her head, 'no', and the confession decimates the last of her reserve.

Sobs rack her, and she finds herself curling down onto the floor. She clenches her jaw as best she can, trying to cut off the sound but it still sieves through her teeth. Still, when Kara moves towards her she manages to grit out a strained "Stop!"

Kara does, but lowers on the floor until she’s sitting next to Lena. They’re close enough to reach out but neither does.

Lena stays there, curled on the floor, long enough to stop wondering why it's called Child's Pose. She feels as vulnerable as she's ever been, flayed open, having finally truly become the monster she always fought against. 

"I fed off someone." Her voice is hoarse but there’s no trace of waiver. Whatever Kara thinks couldn't be worse than how she feels.

“Oh Lena.”

And Lena wants to laugh because Kara, sweet Kara, doesn’t ask who. She doesn’t ask if Lena killed someone, doesn’t offer words of comfort or dismissal and she certainly doesn’t bring Lena out to the balcony and push her off- an idea Lena has considered at least three times on the way home. Instead, Kara offers a simple, soft, “I’m so, so sorry.”

There aren’t words after that, only gentle hands on her shoulders that guide her to the bedroom, into pajamas, and under the covers. Lena is very thankful for that.

  


*_*_*_*_*


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to give a shout out to my bud Nataliawhite92 (over on Tumblr) for reading stuff over, giving excellent feedback, and encouraging both continued angst as well as making me give a blood oath that this will end happily. (It will, I swear!) 
> 
> Thanks to every single other wonderful person who's reading this too. Your comments are always the highlight and totally the fuel I need to keep this pain train going :) But really though, I had no idea anyone would be interested in this torturous yarn, and I'm totally DELIGHTED people have :)

*_*_*_*_*

  
  


It’s an odd sensation after two excruciating weeks fearing she won’t wake up the next day, to almost wish she didn’t.

Lena swings her legs out to sit on the edge of the bed and the physical ease with which she does so underlines the contrast even further.

So it really did happen. She fed.

On Supergirl.

Suddenly she  _ does _ feel woozy. She’s halfway to the bathroom when she hears it. The sound of her door opening, followed by not-so-hushed voices from the living room. 

Stepping closer to the bedroom door she can tell it’s Kara and Alex. The tone is surprisingly harsh and Lena doesn’t have to strain to make out Alex’s biting, “ _ How could you be so stupid?”  _

Kara’s reply sounds muffled and watery, as if she’s crying and that’s enough to almost propel Lena out from hiding, to comfort her. Luckily she doesn’t because what Kara says next stops her dead in her tracks. 

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to stay here and face her? But I had to I- I couldn’t just leave her alone after that,” Kara says, voice strained.

It’s a blow, like something in her chest feels has cracked right down the middle.  _ Pity _ . It makes Lena want to scream, to spit, but mostly cry. She should have known. She should have known! She feels like such a fool to have thought that anyone, even someone like Kara, could look past the literally monstrous act of her feeding and still see her as good. 

“This is fucked up- this is  _ way _ fucked up.” A pause. “I can’t believe I'm saying this but you need to tell her the truth. All of it.”

“I can’t! It would kill her, Alex.”

“Her? Or you?” 

It’s strange to hear Alex take this tone with her sister. More than just a quiet sort of anger, it sounds almost... disappointed.

“I’m all she has,” Kara responds, tone softer, pleading for understanding. "You know how I’ve been feeling. I can’t tell her ‘cause-”

“-the fuck Kar, no. Don’t you dare to rationalize this.”

_ “Tell me you wouldn’t have reacted the same way!” _ Kara’s voice raises now, and there’s a bite of something steely Lena’s never really heard from her. “Tell me you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing.” 

Lena’s heard enough. She heads down the hallway and by the time she emerges, both women are already looking her way. Kara’s eyes are red, and she looks away guilitly from Lena immediately.  _ Good _ , Lena thinks, because as much as a sucker as Lena’s been, its Kara that’s been lying. Lying about really caring. Lying about not being as disgusted with her as Lena is with herself. 

Alex, on the other hand, does not shy away. She faces Lena full on and the look isn’t pitying, it’s… well it reminds her of Lex honestly. Like the look he used to give her when he knew Lillian had been especially nasty. It’s the look of solidarity, of  _ ‘I’m sorry’  _ and _ ‘I got your back’ _ . It’s the look of a protective older sibling, and the fact that it’s pointed at Lena rather than Alex’s actual sister is disarming. 

“Kara called me about what happened,” Alex starts, only to pause and look to Kara, as if waiting for her to say something. Kara doesn’t respond to the silent prompt though, opting to continue studying the carpet instead, so Alex continues. “Thought it might be best I come over and give you a check up. Make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Agent Danvers.” Lena says. It’s habit to fall back on formality when she’s in a compromised situation. It gives her a modicum of control over something, even if it’s herself. She sits herself gingerly in the armchair aside their couch. “But have you seen Supergirl since… since what happened? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, seems fine. Though I’ll definitely be hauling her ass in later for some tests too, ” Alex says, clipped tone full of an unusual amount of disapproval for the hero. Alex stands and makes her way over to Lena, kneeling next to the chair and taking out her medical kit and instruments. Her tone shifts softer and again it makes Lena think of Lex. Of when he’d come to her when she’d have nightmares, comforting. “Frankly, I’m more concerned about you.”

With the mention of concern, Lena’s eyes return to Kara, who is hugging her arms around herself and still refusing to look her way. The flame of anger sparks again, as she remembers the cryptic words overheard and she decides to focus on Alex instead of Kara. At least she’s giving Lena the courtesy of direct communication.

“ Supergirl should be your biggest concern.” Lena says, years of experience of flattening down emotion coming in handy. “She’s far more important.”

“You seriously give fuck-all about Supergirl’s well-being after- after she did  _ that _ ?” Alex snaps, and Lena can tell from the small wince after that it was not intended to be said out loud. 

“Of course I do,” Lena says, angry at the implication she’d be concerned about anything less. "Feeding from her is far too dangerous for her, which is why you and the DEO need to rein her in before she does it again.”

There is a very, very long pause before Alex replies. “I don’t know that we can.”

_ That _ Lena didn’t expect. “National City can’t risk having her compromised,” she says. “Certainly not for something as trivial as this.”

“As much as I agree with that first part, I’m telling you we  _ can’t _ ,” the agent grits through clenched teeth. “I’ve known Supergirl a long time and if there’s something she feels strongly about _ ,  _ no one can stop her.”

“That is…” Lena shakes her head, scoffing. “At the risk of sounding like Lex- isn’t that a little worrisome? I mean, if she’s forcing me to do something against my will, if she’s willing to do that, than what else could she-“

“-this was different. You  _ have _ to know that.”

It’s Kara that says it and both women snap attention to her. She looks flustered, twisted up in knots, and Lena honestly has never seen her look so tortured. 

“Oh,  _ does she _ ?” Alex says pointedly, except that Lena’s not sure what that point is exactly. “I’m thinking you may have a very different perspective on the situation than most. Care to share?”

She blinks at Alex and yeah, Lena’s definitely missing something. Kara returns attention to Lena then, meeting her gaze with eyes that look haunted. “I’m so sorry Lena,” she says, echoing her sentiment from the night before. “I guess I just…” she shakes her head, eyes shifting to the floor once more. “What Supergirl did, forcing you, was absolutely unforgivable. Believe me, I’m disgusted by it down to my  _ core _ ... but I’m not sorry it happened. Because you’re alive. At the end of the day that matters more.”

“What’s done is done,” Lena says, at a loss over Kara’s vacillating sentiments and behavior. “And there’s nothing for you to be sorry for anyway. It’s not like you had anything to do with this.”

What happens next is so odd, Lena literally has no idea how to respond. Kara mumbles something like “Right. Yeah,” and stands. Her face is blank, like she’s staring off light years away and grabs her work bag. “I-I have to go. To work,” she says, dull words barely trailing out. “Text me if you need anything.” 

“Kara…?” Lena says, but Kara just walks to to the door and leaves, as if she can’t even hear her. 

Lena looks to Alex to ask what the fuck that was about, but finds the agent’s expression twisted in rage. If this were a cartoon, there would be steam coming out her ears in fact, but when she sees Lena notice she takes a long breath in through her nose, and exhales. Her resetting is so much like Lena’s it’s almost funny. “Sorry,” Alex grits through her teeth. “Kara’s just… We are having significantly different views on things it seems.” 

“You’d have told Supergirl to let me die,” Lena nods, and it strangely feels good to confirm that. It feels good to know that someone sees the situation as she does, odd as the implications of that might be.

“Honestly I don’t know what I’d do,” Alex sighs, blowing out the last of her frustration and deflating a bit as she does. “I’m just sorry you had to deal with… with what happened. I can’t imagine.” 

“Thank you,” Lena says, and means it. 

Alex turns her attention towards the task at hand and they sit in silence as she performs the usual tests. Lena tries to breathe normally but the atmosphere just feels thick, and heavy. Alex’s sentiment feels honest and the world feels like it’s tipped strangely, trusting Alex over Kara at the moment. Maybe, strangely, she’s only meant to trust one person at at time, at any given moment. The options are rapidly dwindling though, she’s who’s she’s going to have left after this.

“Your vitals are good, looks like a total reset,” Alex mumbles, snapping off her gloves at the end. “For better or worse, Supergirl’s afforded you another couple weeks.”

“Thank you,” Lena echoes, at a loss for what else to say at this point. 

Alex packs up her things and Lena walks her to the door, something inside of her screaming to keep the agent here just a little longer. “Alright, well I’ll-

“-Wait!” she yelps as the agent is just through the threshold. 

Alex raises an eyebrow slightly, but waits. 

“I, um…” god, she didn’t think this through did she? _ How pathetic would ‘I don’t want to be alone’ be? _ Can she afford to sink to that? Can she afford not to?

Thankfully, she’s spared. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” Alex says, kindness radiating much as her sister’s ever has. “I’m not leaving for good.” 

Lena bites her lip, nods. 

“Seriously Lena, call me if you need anything, okay? Even just to talk?”

“Okay.” Lena says, nodding again. 

Alex smirks. “See you tomorrow, Luthor,” and makes her way out. The door clicks shut behind, and Lena’s alone once more. 

The silence is almost jarring. Standing in the middle of her living room, a distinct and foreign feeling settles over her: She has no idea what to do with herself. It’s like being in the middle of the open ocean, disorienting, and from the depths the more familiar feeling of panic starts to rise. She looks around to anchor herself and frowns, noticing for the first time that her apartment is a  _ mess _ . 

It’s cluttered in a way it never was prior to Hurricane Kara landing in her home. The debris of their cohabitation litters every corner and as much as she’d like to say the place just looks more ‘lived in’ now, for Lena this constitutes chaos.

It’s autopilot after that and maybe that’s exactly what she needs, just to move, to do. Grabbing a laundry basket from the bedroom she starts collecting stray items (mostly Kara’s belongings). There are balled up discarded socks, crumpled sweaters, a bevy of pens and food wrappers, and one lonely sneaker.

She goes to grab a thick cardigan discarded near the window, and catches sight of the bass guitar Kara got her. It sits just as it did when it was unveiled it, the shiny black enamel glinting at her in the late morning light. It stands as a monument of mocking confusion now. Like everything else from the past few weeks, suddenly she’s not sure if it was a gesture born of genuine care or just pity. 

It’s still plugged in and Lena flicks the switch on the amp before she even realizes what she’s doing. The small speaker hums to life in anticipation. She plucks the fattest string and listens the way it reverberates through her, bouncing off the walls of an apartment she barely recognizes as her own anymore. Taken over by a woman she’s not sure what to think of anymore.

It feels like a betrayal to their friendship to even be doubting Kara but given both what was overheard and said directly, perhaps not. Yes, Lena’s alive, which is subjectively a good thing. And yes, Kara’s never been shy about the fact that she has a close friendship with Supergirl. But for Kara to take the hero’s side so quickly, feels like a slap in the face. For her to be keeping things, keeping feelings of pity and disgust from Lena, is downright heartbreaking. Just last night Kara had Lena in her arms, had held her, had comforted her and tucked her in bed. What was that then? _ It felt so real. _

Unbidden, the other memories from the previous night come rolling back too ( _ Was that really just yesterday?) _ . Her voice is still hoarse from the screaming and when she closes her eyes that red crest blazes behind them, mocking in a way somehow far more sinister than Lena has ever viewed it before.

She absently rubs a hand over her forearm, ghosting over where the Super’s grip held her against the wall. Frankly, she’s surprised it’s not bruised, but maybe the feed has more restorative properties than she’d originally guessed. 

_ Something to factor into the new lab work. _

And that’s just it, there’s more work to be done now. It’s clear she can’t give up on her work to find a cure to save her life, but she can’t wait around anymore for her life to start either. 

The book of tabs sit next the bass. Taking it, she walks over to her bag, tucking it inside. She likes to read at lunch, usually work stuff but maybe that can change. Spreadsheets can wait a little bit, life shouldn’t.

Lena continues on with her tidying, every item of Kara’s she collects underlining the fact that there are other changes, other returns to normalcy that probably shouldn’t wait either.

She has to talk to Kara. 

Lena picks up her phone, opens the text chat between them, poised to write, well, something. She draws a blank though. Kara left so suddenly, Lena’s not exactly sure why even. 

Something dark inside her hisses that it’s just more secrets. To cut ties. To preemptively leave before being left. That staying has always meant getting hurt.

_ No _ . She pushes that blackness back down. Lena tosses the phone aside, rubs her temples, a monster of a headache threatening. She heads to the kitchen for coffee before realizing it’s nearly two and she hasn’t eaten anything yet. She blanches further when she realizes part of it is because Kara’s been bringing her lunch lately.

She starts to laugh, right there, alone in her kitchen. Laughing because  _ this is such a fucking mess.  _ It’s such a cruel twist but how could she not expect that by now. How can she continue to let her guard down and not expect things to come back and bite her in the ass. Or in this case, stabs her in the back. In the heart.

Grabbing the first food like item she sees, she sets to work nuking it the microwave and carrying it back to the couch. There sits, burning her tongue on Cup O’ Noodle and flips on some Court TV in the background as she plans her next move. 

Her first therapist told her that distraction is a coping skill for survival, not for solution, and she can see now just how accurate that is. She has cleaned everything, completed chores both necessary and quite unnecessary and now she’s left with just herself. 

She can't make Kara talk to her of course (and the idea of forcing anyone to do anything makes her stomach roll with nausea even more than usual) but she is desperate to sort this out. They’ve always been able to do that in the past, and having this elephant in the room is too much. Having knowledge of Kara’s feelings without her knowing, is more guilt Lena doesn't need either. Better to rip the BandAid, expose the wound, and maybe it can heal. 

It’s decided then, she’ll talk to Kara as soon as she gets home. Lena nods to herself, happy to have a plan at least. She’s not accustomed to the practice of just killing time (even when she and Kara hung out, it always felt like time well spent) but she’s seen enough TV to know how its supposed to go. So, setting the empty noodle container aside, she grabs a blanket and wraps herself up. She pulls up Netflix, and starts a re-watch of an old favorite as she waits. Waits for Kara to come home.

  
  


*_*_*

Kara doesn’t come home. 

Not at six, as she usually does after work. Not at eight or nine, as she might if she’s meeting up with James or Winn. 

Lena gives up at eleven, relocates her her binge watching to the bedroom and falls asleep to the dulcet sounds of Leo McGarry giving people a piece of his mind. 

  
  


*_*_*

She’s awoken out of a dead sleep to the sound of her phone beeping, alerting just as she set it to, that the front door has been opened. The time reads just past three in the morning. 

When Lena steps into the kitchen, Kara freezes like she’s caught red-handed and it only serves to underline Lena’s fervor to shine a light on the issue.

“Lena- what are you doing up?” Kara says, putting down the left over pizza slice in hand. “Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet.”

“No, you didn’t wake- where have you been?”

“Following up some crazy leads at work. I didn't mean to worry you.”

It’s a terrible lie, and the anger it sparks cuts through the last of Lena’s sleep-fogged brain. “I wasn’t worried” 

The tone seems to telegraph to Kara too. “Oh.” she shuffles her feet a bit. “Look, I’m really sorry about my behavior earlier. Just leaving like that- that was dumb.”

Lena doesn’t reply. She wants to see where Kara will go. Will she bring it up? Or continue the charade? 

The silence draws on a beat longer than usual and it’s clear that it’s making Kara anxious. “I know I should have been here for you,” she continues, rounding the kitchen island until they’re standing close. Knowing what she does, it’s hard not for Lena to find it patronizing. “I wanted. I want to be there for you no matter what.”

“Than why did you leave?” Direct is better and this is it, this is Kara’s chance.

“Like I said, I- I- had stuff I needed to do at work.”

Lena sigh, just to keep breathing. The charade continues it seems and it’s hard to keep the deep, guttural sadness and disappointment from projecting through. 

Clearly she fails, because Kara’s face looks pained. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She reaches out to touch Lena’s shoulder. It’s a gesture that she’s done in comfort a thousand times but this time, Lena jerks away. It’s unconscious, and neither of them expect it, and the Kara’s face falls it makes Lena almost wants to apologize. Makes her almost loses sight of what’s actually happening here. 

“I’m sorry,” Kara says, a mantra that’s growing more and more stale. “I didn’t mean to- I- I think I’m going to just take a shower. Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning?”

Lena just nods, not trusting her words. 

“Okay.” Kara says, if only to herself, and moves past Lena towards the bathroom. 

Lena makes her way back her own room. She listens as the water turns on, then off minutes later. She listens as Kara shuffles around the kitchen before settling down on the living room couch, as she has for weeks now. 

Lena listens long into the night. She’s not sure what she was hoping for really. Maybe Kara to come to her, maybe something to give her further clue what was going on between them, but whatever it is never comes. Only silence. Deafening silence. Sometime near dawn she drifts off, the beep from her phone alerting her that Kara has left once more.

  
  


*_*_*_*_*


	8. Chapter 8

*_*_*_*_*

Lena’s alarm goes off at its regularly scheduled time, buzzer sounding particularly harsh against the silence of the apartment. Fumbling blindly, she manages to slap it into silence before rolling onto her back once more. She blinks at the ceiling as reality bricks itself back up around her.

Things are a mess, a goddamn, fucking mess. She is emotionally drained and physically exhausted from lack of sleep. It’s instinctual, grabbing her phone to want to text Kara, and it’s only when it’s in the hand that she remembers that’s not an option at the moment.

Phone already in hand, she scrolls the news feeds instead. Nothing too noteworthy. Some saber rattling both domestic and abroad, stocks undulating accordingly, and it seems Supergirl has been busy as always. Saving people and the like.

**_Her_ ** _life seems to have continued on_ , Lena thinks dryly. _Why shouldn’t mine?_

It would be nice, having more to her life. Lena’s had a glimpse at it the past few weeks, or at least imagined what it could be like. Imagined a world where Kara- or some other magical, perfect, lover- would make her pancakes and putter around while Lena does the Sunday crossword. Imagined a world where she had friends who cared about her well being, had hobbies she enjoyed and made time for, had social outings to attend that didn’t involve people asking her for money (or trying to assassinate her).

Those weeks she thought she was dying, that life felt possible enough to regret not having just _made it happen_ at some point prior. However now that she has time suddenly again, that possibility feels further away than ever. Logically she knows there are things she can do. Steps she could take, to work towards those goals. At the moment though, she’ll settle for just getting out of bed and going to work. 

She gets as far as standing and pulling on her robe before the fatigue of the previous evening catches back up with her again.

Coffee first. She can take on the world after that.

Lena pads down the hall to the kitchen but stops when she sees what’s on the counter. It’s stack of pancakes and her heart twinges when she recognizes the handwriting on the card that sits next to them.

She approaches it cautiously, which seems ridiculous as it’s a card, not a bomb. Less ridiculous though, considering the way she’s let head and heart run away with her, it may very well have the emotional fallout of one.

Opening the envelope, she studies the cover- a sad looking golden retriever puppy on the outside that bares a striking resemblance to Kara’s own faux pouting expression. The inside is filled with Kara’s small, neat scrawl.

_[Lena,_

_Sorry for running out on our conversation last night. I could tell you were angry and then I went and checked out on you (AGAIN!). There are things I need to tell you and haven’t because everything has been so crazy I didn’t want to add to it. It’s totally clear though that not being honest is causing way more damage than just talking about stuff, so give me one more shot to try and explain? I totally understand if you don’t want to, just let me know. I miss you, and us, and just want things to be good again._

_-K]_

There’s a ridiculous string of x’s and o’s after her name and Lena presses the card to her chest like some sappy Victorian character before she can stop herself. She’s not sure how she got to this point, guilty of everything her mother always told her not to: letting herself be swept up in sentiment, letting another person have so much control over her emotionally. Somewhere between that and total emotional shut down would be preferable obviously, but in this exact moment Lena is happy to settle for just feeling relief. Comfort that Kara’s changed her mind and wants to come to the table and try and sort stuff out.

She pretends not to rush her way through the coffee making process, pumps the brakes as much as she can, but returns to the bedroom to shoot out a response text fairly quick anyway. She gives herself credit, keeping it short and simply saying she got Kara’s note and would be home around eight or so if she still wanted to talk, tosses the phone on the bed before and moves on with her routine.

“Alexa, play ‘Gentle Positivity’ playlist,” Lena announces as she makes her way into the bathroom once more, hoping something kind and mellow will settle her nerves. Meditation has never suited her, the manufactured stillness only amplifying the chaos of thoughts and feelings within. As she washes her hair and lets combination of hot water and Natalie Merchant’s dulcet tones sooth her into calm tranquility, she thinks this is probably pretty close

Emerging a half hour later to get dressed, she finds a text from Kara consisting entirely of happy emojis, which Lena interprets as confirmation for meeting later. She’s not allowing herself to get her hopes up, nor obsess, but the morning is definitely taking a more positive turn than she’s expected.

Arriving at work, Jess greets her enthusiastically, glad to hear Lena continues to live and Lena allows herself to sink into her assistant’s tight hug and the brief comfort it provides. There is a mountain of work waiting for Lena when she gets to her desk and it’s almost a relief. The prospect of being productive sounds highly satisfying and the bonus of losing herself in something as trite as paperwork, to disappear into sets of numbers and camouflage among the living, sounds pretty good too. For the moment at least.

Time flies by and soon Jess is depositing lunch on her desk, but as Lena stares down at it, she’s unable to bring herself to take a bite. There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s the same salad she has every Tuesday, but suddenly the idea that she has a “Regular Tuesday Salad” isn’t sitting right.

Life is continuing as it had before. Before the Ixodis, before stuff with Kara, but now instead of comforting she’s finding the prospect of slipping into her old routine slightly unnerving.

She’s never really paid much attention to her own needs, even having needs of her own was a concept Lillian worked to extinguish early on. Her talents are best utilized serving others, anyway. The habits she’s developed, the routines she’s made for herself, even much of her behavior and personality have been merely impressions formed from the things she’s pressed into along the way.

It’s not a new concept or revelation, at the very least enough therapist have introduced the idea that she gets that, but suddenly it feels… upsetting. Now, as she looks down at her lightly dressed spinach, she finds herself wonders if she even likes this salad or is it just what she’s grown accustomed to consuming. Would she _know_ if she liked it? Is there enough her to even _have_ likes?

Pushing back from her desk, she chucks the salad in the mini fridge, grabs her purse, tells Jess not to expect her for an hour, and hits the streets. The point at which leafy greens start giving you an existential crisis, is when it’s time to go out and get some fresh air.

Merging into the city’s mid-day bustle, she puts herself on autopilot and isn’t surprised when her feet carry her to the park nearby. She’s walked the path dozens of times before and as she rounds the rose garden, she’s delighted to find the red and white striped umbrella of the food cart just as she’d left it almost a year ago.

Baniti is there too, eyes lighting up as he catches sight of her approaching. “Ms. Lena! What a delightful surprise.”

“Good to see you too!” She returns his smile easily. “I’m surprised you remember me, it’s been a while.”

The older man grins toothlessly, accent gumming around his words, “How could I forget someone as lovely as you?”

Her cheeks flush at the words. “Such a charmer.”

“How about I make your favorite, just as you like it, and you tell what it is that had kept you from me so long, hm?” He grabs a pita and throws it on the flattop, attention never straying from Lena. “You found someone else to have lunch with perhaps?”

She chuckles despite herself, nodding. “That’s part of it, yes.”

“Yet, you’re here with me once again? Not that I’m complaining…”

He raises an eyebrow and the inquiry is gentle and kind, making the truth easy for her. “It’s… complicated.”

“Love often is,” he nods sagely.

“I didn’t say anything about love,” Lena notes as he puts the finishing touches on the falafel.

“You didn’t have to. Your face says it all.” he says, handing it over. “Extra jalapeños, pickled cabbage, and tahini sauce, just the way you like it.”

“You did remember,” she accepts it gratefully, her stomach growling at the scent of it.

“You are hard to forget Ms. Lena.” He points his spatula at her, “And if your suitor has a brain in their head she won’t forget you so easily either.”

Lena openly gawks at that one. “I don’t recall saying it was a woman.”

“No one breaks a heart quite like a beautiful woman.” He shrugs. “Also, I read your interview in _The Advocate_ last year.”

“Oh, yes, I remember that one,” she blushes. Gingerly removing her gloves, takes a bite, and can’t help the way her eyes roll back out of sheer delight. “Oh _GOD_ \- How could I forgot how good this was?” The flavor is tremendous- exactly why she came back for it everyday, the few months she move to the city.

“It’s the little pleasures that make life grand.”

“A philosopher and culinary genius,” she says, taking a few extra napkins. “Impressive.”

“I try,” he gives a goofy bow. “Keep your chin up Ms. Lena. And don’t be a stranger.”

Lena thanks him again, slips an extra $20 bill in his tip jar when he’s not looking and begins a slow stroll back through the park towards work.

It’s a crisp day, the fresh wind bringing promise of spring even if it’s still few months off. It makes her think of her days at MIT, when the snow would melt enough take her lunch outside. She would walk along the river, brainstorming out loud, and probably sounding like a lunatic to any onlookers. It was nice though, to let the wind lift and swirl those thoughts around her before returning into the stifling, filtered air of the labs.

The memory so visceral that when she does return to her office, she bypasses her desk and heads down to her lab, letting Jess know to hold her calls.

Her intent is to work on the cure, but after an hour of doing so, she finds her mind wandering. It makes its way to other ideas, recent and not so recent. Afternoon passes into evening in what feels like no time and it’s just past seven as she hangs up her lab coat, returning to her office to collect her things. Lena feels… energized in a way. Time spent on her own projects has always made her feel this way, and today it had the additional benefit of prevented extra overanalyzing of her impending talk with Kara.

Overall, it’s been a very good day… so of course it couldn’t last.

She’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop since it happened, bracing herself for Supergirl’s return. Despite the preparation though, when she hears the boots land on the balcony behind, her heartbeat still quickens.

Lena doesn’t turn, but can feel the presence standing at the door. “This is _so_ not the conversation I was looking forward to tonight.”

“Ms. Luthor, we need to talk.”

Now she turns, schooling her face into the well worn mask of indifference, not giving the alien the satisfaction of knowing how rattled she really is. “You had no right.”

“I had to. You were going to die."

She places a hand on the back of her chair, chooses her words carefully, clinically. The conversation unfolding like the back and forth of a chess game “You don’t get to make that decision for me.”

"I gave you more time.” Supergirl says, once again stepping inside without invitation. It makes Lena wonder if their relationship was ever equal or this was simply her first time disagreeing with a god.

“Or you prolonged the sentence,” Lena says, staying rooted in place. “And you weakened yourself for me. What if the city needed you and you couldn't save them?”

“I was only weakened temporarily. There weren’t any lasting negative effects-“

“-You don’t know that!” And the _audacity_ \- the self-appointed _righteousness_ \- tips her over the edge. She’s livid. This is what Lex was afraid of. She didn’t understand before and the fact that she does now, churns her stomach.

“You wear that symbol, have those powers, and think you have all the answers,” the cold, sharpened edge to her voice sounding more like Lillian’s than her own. “You're not _better_ , you’re just stronger."

“You’re right,” the Super replies, rounding Lena’s desk slowly until they’re facing each other once more. “I’m not better, but having these powers means having to make the hard choices.” She crosses her arms. “And keeping Lena Luthor alive, for the betterment of the world, is an easy one."

“That’s a little much don’t you think?” Lena snorts. “LCorp would have gone on. No one needs _me_.”

“You’re wrong.”

The intensity of it is enough to give Lena a bit of pause, but she shakes it off. She folds her hands in front of her, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “Let’s skip the morality debate and get down to business,” she states evenly. “Are you still planning to make me feed off you again when the time comes?”

“If that’s what it takes to keep you alive, yes."

Lena’s heart thumps against her ribs, a cold shiver quakes down her spine. “I see.”

“I’m sorry for the way it happened,” the Super says quietly, and Lena almost detects a waiver in the steel. “I didn’t mean for it to feel so… violent.”

“I’m not sure how else being violated is supposed to feel,” Lena hums, crossing her arms and nearing the end of her patience.

The alien must register the shift and there’s a little stiffening to her posture. “I’ll be back in a week,” Supergirl says, backing up towards the door. Her movements seem slow, purposeful, as if she’s trying not to spook Lena. “No need for you to be in pain, to drain all the way down.”

“Yes because this is all about what’s best for me,” Lena says, sarcasm dripping.

Supergirl looks unsure how to respond and frankly, Lena doesn't care to wait to see what she comes up with. “Fly away Supergirl. I’m sure you have more people to _‘save’_.”

In this at least, the alien complies, shooting away in a blur of red and blue, leaving Lena to pack up her belongings once more. She moves to lock the balcony on the way out, but decides not to at the last moment. It feels like a betrayal, though she’s not sure to whom. It doesn’t matter anyway, it’d be a fruitless gesture against an unstoppable force. Best to simply keep moving.

Lena puts the Super out of her mind. She has Kara to think about now, and as her car rolls out towards home, she settles her attention to the blonde that matters more.

  


*_*_*_*_*


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another Kara POV chapter. Poor Kara can't catch a break either.

*_*_*_*_*

Kara leaps from Lena’s balcony and flies straight to Alex’s. Upset, she doesn’t think twice about flying through the open window straight into the apartment. When Alex whips towards her, gun pointed and clad only in a very revealing red negligee, Kara wishes she had.

“You’re like _naked!_ ” Kara shouts, covering her eyes and turning away.

“Well you’re not who I was expecting!” Alex shouts back.

Kara can hear the slight sound of fabric shuffling and turns back to find her sister wrapped in the throw blanket from the back of her couch. “If you were expecting Maggie why do you have your gun out?”

“I always have my gun nearby,” she says, placing the item in question back near the lamp.

Kara spies something else on the table behind her. “And handcuffs?”

Alex cheeks turn a shade close to her hair. “What’s the emergency Kar?”

Kara starts to take in more details of the room. Candles everywhere, soft but vaguely angsty music. “Maybe I should go.”

Alex follows her gaze and sighs. “You’re already here, just spill it.”

“I told Lena I’d meet her tonight, to talk, maybe tell her about ya know...” Kara grabs her cape in example dropping it as she continues. “But I wanted to see how she felt about Supergirl first. So flew up to her office just now-”

“For godsake... “

“She was so angry.” Kara plows on. “Worse, she was _cold_. I-I- don’t know if Lena will ever forgive Supergirl.”

“You mean you,” Alex says, adjusting the blanket around herself a bit. “If she’ll ever forgive _you_.”

“Yeah.” Kara shuffles a bit. “I don’t know if I can tell her now.” Alex just stares and Kara almost wishes she was yelling. “If you’re disappointed, you should be.”

“Don’t worry, I am,” Alex says flatly, though something softens after a moment. “But I’m more worried. This isn’t you, Kar. This kind of avoiding, this kind of-”

“-Lying?” Kara chuckles darkly. “Part of the job description right.”

Alex sits down next to her on the couch. “But not like this. It’s almost like you never wanted her to know. What is it with her, with this whole thing?”

Kara feels something well up at the question. She shrugs it off. “It doesn’t matter. With everything I’ve done, she hates me forever now.” She flops down on the couch, cape splaying underneath her. “I mean, it’s not like I _planned_ it. She was going to die- I panicked! I did the only thing I knew I could.”

“Planning’s never been your strong suit, no,” Alex says, sitting down next to her. “But I think there might be a different reason you’re not telling her.”

“You know, her mother told me a while back that when Lena finds out she’s going to hate me,” Kara mumbles, letting the tangent of the memory pull her away from the topic at hand. “That was before all this even.”

“I highly doubt something Lillian Luthor said is making this big an impact.” She squeezes Kara’s shoulder. “So come on. What is it really?”

A good question. Of course she should want Lena to know, right? Logically. Logistically. Friendship wise? It makes sense. As she thinks about the reveal and Lena’s possible reactions, about how things might be between them, there’s a small twist of upset in it, a tiny pang of loss.

“She believed in me,” Kara says quickly, forcing the words out before they escape again. “That’s why it’s hard. Lena looked at me, ordinary Kara Danvers, and saw a hero. And it made me feels so… special. That she liked me when I was just me, without all the- the baggage of what I can do and where I came from.”

“So, without knowing who you really are, basically,” Alex crosses her arms.

 _Ouch_.

“Okay, yeah.” Kara allows. “But sometimes it’s nice not having the pain and whatever of a whole civilization destroyed and the burden of saving a new one hanging over me. Maybe I like someone treating me like I’m normal, instead of…you know.”

“Instead of like you’re different?” Alex hums. “Yeah, I think I can relate to that.” She turns, sitting criss cross, facing her sister now. “Do you know how hard it was to come out to you Kar? Not because I thought you’d love me less, but because I thought you’d see me differently. That it would change things because you’d see my struggles and have different expectations too. But Maggie was right in telling me to come out to the people I love because I want them to love the real me. The whole me. Not just the parts I think they want. Or the ones I want them to focus on.”

“I just don’t want to lose anyone else,” Kara says quietly. “I have lost so many people I care about. And I really, really care about her.”

“But Lena doesn’t know any of that. She doesn’t know you’re Supergirl, or how you feel about her. She has no idea why you’re acting weird or even why Supergirl would feel so strongly about Lena as Lena.”

“Lena is so close to me as Kara, even has feelings for me...”

“And maybe she’s not the only one in that boat?” Alex says kindly.

Kara shuffles a bit at the question. “She’s special Alex. I know I’ve already waited too long. Telling her now, I’d lose her for sure. I just need to wait for the right moment.”

“The longer you wait the worse it’s getting, you see that right?”

Kara nods, eyes catching the clock on the wall. It’s nearly eight. “Ughhhh, I gotta go.”

They both stand, and walk to the window. “So what are you going to do?” Alex asks.

Kara shrugs again, “I honestly don’t know.”

She may be the one with superpowers but the hug Alex pulls her into feels strong and tight around her, and Rao if Kara isn’t glad for that. “Thanks, Alex.” Kara says, separating them.

“Good luck,” she says. “And Kar?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe knock next time?”

Kara laughs, “Absolutely. Learned my lesson on that one. Yuck.”

She flies off to the sound of her sister chuckling and reminds herself not to tune in that direction until at least mid morning tomorrow.

Kara lands in the alley outside Lena’s apartment to change. It’s been her spot to do so for a while but ever since that night Lena was attacked it feels strange to be there. The spot feels almost haunted, the memory of Lena at her most terrified, etched into the brick and cement around her.

 _Lena wasn’t scared of Supergirl then, at least,_ she thinks wryly. That offered hand, the offer of trust, might play out very differently now.

Those thoughts seem to follow her upstairs and Kara takes an extra minute, fidgeting at the door before she knocks.

Lena opens the door and just the sight of her causes Kara’s heartbeat to quicken. That’s happening more and more lately.

Kara's been noticing a lot of things lately actually. The cut of Lena's jaw in low lighting from the TV at night. The pleased little snerk noise she makes when Kara’s said something sassier than usual. The dexterity she exhibits doing everything from fiddling with inventions to twirling her pen while lost in thought.

 _Those hands._ Rao, does Kara loves Lena’s hands. The long black gloves Lena’s taken to wearing only seem to add to Kara’s intrigue, leaving her wanting or more. She has started and stopped many thoughts concerning them lately, some not so platonic.

Currently, one of the gloved hands in question is holding a wine glass. The other gives a half hearted beckoning motion before abandoning Kara to let herself in. Kara heeds, closing the door behind, and following wordlessly to the kitchen.

Lena is already in what she’s referred to in the past as her ‘squirrel suit’. It’s a favored outfit consisting of her oversized grey MIT sweatshirt, dark grey leggins, and a pair of long socks that were probably fuzzy at one point in time, years ago.

She’s seen Lena in business attire, ball gowns, and- just that one time in the shower- nothing at all, but _this_ is the outfit causes something in that reptilian part of her brain to go wild. Swathed in cozy cotton, it accentuates Lena’s very becoming curves and makes Kara ache to touch. Makes her want more than ever to just… well something. Something that after tonight, after she tells lena, is only ever going to be nothing.

It seems unreal that Kara couldn’t see her own feelings for what they were (might be?). It was a secret, hiding in plain sight, that should have been as clear as the glasses on her face. That magnetic pull that’s drawn Kara in has been there from the start, but somewhere along the way she got twisted up in the fact that Lena is her best friend.

It’s been growing ever more obvious since that almost kiss. It’s odd to start to recognize, to start to admit, that inveterate urge to wrap Lena up in her arms, to squeeze her, run hands over cotton-swathed soft curves, might _actually_ be more than simply platonic.

Kara comes to a stop on the far side of the kitchen island. Considering her thoughts, considering what’s coming next, keeping some space between them seems prudent. Lena, for her part, isn’t even paying attention to Kara, instead busying herself retrieving the already open bottle of wine.

“How was your day?” Kara asks, because she has sto start somewhere.

“Well Supergirl came to visit just before I left,” Lena huffs, removing the stopper, pouring the glass generously full again.

 _Only wine, at least_ , Kara notes, which is good. She knows Lena drinks whiskey when she’s planning to be alone. Alone and usually feeling especially self-destructive. Wine means she’s trying to maintain some semblance of control. Maybe. Sort of.

“How did-uh, how did that go?”

“How do you think?” Lena takes a sip, pauses, and takes a far longer one. “She gave me the line about how great power means great responsibility, means making a hard choice for me, meaning my point of view doesn’t matter.”

“Well, I mean, she’s not going to just let you die when she can do something about it.” There’s a kernel of frustration at the redundancy but Kara dials it back. After all, this isn’t supposed to be a continuation of their previous conversation, for Lena at least. “Aren’t you glad to be alive? Isn’t that the point? This is like the beginning of _The Incredibles_. You know, when he saves that man and the guy turns around and tries to-”

“-This isn’t some movie Kara, this is my _life_ ,” Lena places the glass down on the counter a bit harder than intended. Wine sloshes just a bit and the clink of the glass almost shattering seems to cut through the air. “God, you sound just like her.”

Something inside Kara want to crumble at that, at the sick stupid irony of it. Her words fall measured and listless when finally brings herself to reply. “I- she just wanted you alive. Felt that the end justifies the means.”

“You know,” Lena replies, tone weary, but not without a bite. “My problem isn’t even about the _forcing_ , it's about the fact that she didn't stop to understand _why_.” She reclaims her glass, taking another long draw and swallowing it roughly. Wine is not exactly made for gulping.

Though what it is made for seems to be working just fine. Lena’s movements have a familiar slightly loose, slightly haphazard feel to them, just fuzzing around the edges. And when she speaks again, words are a little rounder (and that alluring accent seems to thicken a bit as well. “I mean, did she stop for even a second to understand what about what sacrificing herself would mean to me?” She gestures with her wine glass, incredulity apparent. “Did she think about what burdening me with that responsibility- that it would be my fault, Lena Luthor, for taking Supergirl away from the world? That I’d have to live with _that_? Nope!”

She shakes her head and Kara can almost feel the shift. Annoyance and sadness moving towards something blacker. She chuckles darkly into her glass, tipping it back and finishing it before facing Kara once more. “I’m already a monster, incapable of human contact, but she would have made me a villain. And didn’t think twice about it. Didn’t think about that at all.”

It’s a like a bucket of cold water, a shock, because _no_ Kara did not think of that.

She can just picture headlines- **_Luthor Kills Super_ **\- bold and brazen on every newsstand and… and she she wouldn’t even be at CatCo to fight to the contrary. Sinking further down the rabbit hole of logic, it’s with sick clarity she realizes if Supergirl had died saving Lena, Kara Danvers would have too.

 _You’re my only friend in National City_. She can still hear Lena saying it and oh Rao did she not even think any of this through.

“I never thought of that,” Kara says, finally finding her voice.

“And that’s why I love you,” Lena says, words soft and easy, like the wine in her system has taken heft out of them. “You never seem to see me as the villian.”

Kara feels dumbstruck at this point, words completely gone. Luckily, Lena doesn’t seem to notice, pressing onward all the same.

“You know, maybe we can just like, _forget_ Supergirl for now?” Lena says, voice cracking oddly, and yeah they’ve arrived at drunk. She waving her hand, but that seems to be a mistake, causing her balance to dip a bit, nearly missing the counter when she goes to lean on it. “I invited you to talk about you. About you and me.”

Lena makes a grab for the wine bottle and Kara can only watch as the normally dexterous fingers fumble to pour another half glass. Nodding towards a clean glass on the counter, Lena silently asks if kara wants some. Kara shakes her head. “More fore me,” she mumbles and Lena continues on.

“I know you’ve been avoiding me since I fed, and I overheard you and Alex that morning after,” Lena says, pouring her third? Fourth?- glass. “Overheard you talking about feeling disgusted, that it was torture to come back and be around me after what happened. So why don’t we start with that?”

Kara should stand tall, to hold her head high for what’s coming, but can’t. She’s going to have to reveal herself, she’s going to have to cop to who she is, where she’s from, what she’s done. She’s going to lose Lena and Lena’s going to lose her only friend. Unable to right herself, Kara’s posture stays the same, hunched over the kitchen island, palms flat on the cold tile, bracing herself pitifully. “I felt... guilty.”

“Guilty about what?” Expression scrunched in confusion, it should be adorable. It is adorable, but considering everything is on the precipice of collapse, Kara can’t even enjoy it.

“Guilty because I...” And here it comes. It should at least but Kara’s gut twists, words bubble up and burn like bile. She feels like a bullfrog holding in a croak.

“You...?” Lena leads, impatient hand gesture loose and fluid, before burying her nose back in her glass.

Looking at her, at perfect, pure, beautiful Lena- with her purple stained tongue and her cozy squirrel suit- Kara knows she can’t. She can’t tell her. There is no Red Kryptonite to blame, no extraneous circumstances or excuse to hide behind. Kara made those choices, would go back and make them again honestly, and Lena will never forgive her for them. She made a choice as Supergirl to keep Lena alive and a choice as Kara not to share her identity.

Part of her knows, even thought this was all her fault, there is a good chance Lena might blame herself too, at least partially. For not “seeing” Kara for what she is, for trusting someone, for putting her heart out there only to be crushed again. There’s a good possibility it might serve to further underline, highlight and cement all the the destructive conclusions Lena’s come to through trauma and experience. The doubts and fears that she confided in her best friend about. The ones her best friend is proving right.

No, Kara can’t be that person, the person that destroys Lena. She can’t and but already is in a way and now Lena is still looking at her, looking and waiting. Kara’s been to this moment too many times before, has had to make a choice that means someone being sent away. That means never seeing them again and she just _can’t_.

“ _I think I maybe, sort of, kind of, might be starting to have feelings for you!_ ” It bursts out in a rush and Kara’s eyes go as wide as Lena’s because it’s just as a surprise to her that’s what came out.

And _Rao_ was it the wrong thing to say, maybe the _worst_ thing to say. It is the truth- the wrong truth but the truth- and Lena’s just gaping at her. Kara thinks of Alex saying Lena doesn’t know, doesn’t know anything about Kara or how Kara’s feeling. It’s already out there, no taking it back. So Kara continues on, like a dam has burst.

“Well, not starting, more like maybe uncovering them? I’m not sure though. It feels like it always has between us, but also more? I felt guilty because it’s not fair to you Lena. For me to act differently towards you, to let my confusion affect our relationship when you need me most. It’s not even fair to tell you about this, which is why I didn’t. It’s wasn’t fair when you were dying and not now when your future's still so unsure. It wasn’t fair when we didn’t have time, because I wasn’t sure how I’d feel even if we did.”

“And-and- there are _things_. Things I need to work out, to say and do, before we could even explore that. Things I’d need to… to bring to light, that could change everything. I’ve kept this stuff to myself because if I can’t 100% guarantee I won’t hurt you, I’m not willing go there at all.” She heaves a sad sigh. “’I’ve been keeping that from you and I’m sorry.”

The fog of wine seems to have slowed Lena’s thinking enough that Kara can practically see the cogs turning and the pieces falling into place. Lena’s goes on a face journey of microexpressions before opening wide with realization. “Oh my god _.”_

“Lena I-”

“-Shhhhhhhhhh!” she says, holding up a gloved hand, closing her eyes. They stay that way for a full minute, before Lena opens them again. Moving to the sink, she pours the rest of her glass out slowly, before making her way (not too coordinately at this point) to the couch and sitting primly on the edge.

Kara hesitantly follows, sitting on the other end. After a few more awkward silent moments, she turn to Kara once more.

“Well,” Lena starts, clearing her throat. “Thank you for telling me still. It’s… I guess it’s good to know where things stand. Even if it’s the unknown.”

“That’s it?” Kara says before it even computes, because... _is that really it?_

Lena straightens her posture slightly, imperceivable but Kara’s come to notice these things, knows this is her grasping for control. “I’m not exactly sure what to do with that information, frankly,” she says in her most ‘professional’ tone. 

“I guess that makes two of us,” Kara slumps back into the couch. This is a nightmare of her own cowardly construction

Lena shuffles her hands, placing one over the other, like she’s not sure what to do with them, before settling them in her lap once more. “I don’t want to pretend anymore. Or hold anything back,” she says evenly, though Kara can hear the way her heart is beating just a bit too fast. “The truth, even painful or confusing, even if it fucks things up, is still reality. I don’t want to live in a fantasy world where I can’t trust the people I love to be honest with me. I’ve done that most of my life.”

She bites her lip and looks so small and Kara didn’t know her heart could actually break into more pieces than it already has. “The truth is I… I love you Kara,” she says quietly. “You’re my best friend.” She pauses, smiling sadly. “And as you know, a bit more than that as well."

“You’re my best friend too,” Kara says, because she can’t stay quiet any longer. She reaches out, taking one of Lena’s gloved hands in hers.

Lena stares at it, almost blankly, before looking back up at Kara once more. “I just want you by my side. I don’t care how or what that looks like. I just want you with me.”

“Me too,” and Kara hopes the fierceness of her conviction in that translates because she means it with every fiber of her being at this point.

They are both quiet for long moments, before Kara hunts for her words once more. “So I guess we just keep on, as we are?”

“Yes. I suppose. And no more secrets.”

It’s should be a moment of relief, but it can’t be and it must show. “Kara?” Lena asks, leaning forward, eyebrows tensing in slight concern. “There’s nothing else, right?”

 _I'm Supergirl._ That truth buzzes around like razor blades in her chest, a thousand little cuts constricting, a thousand little thoughts and doubts and fears poisoning her, reminding her she is weak, that she couldn’t, can’t. She can’t lose someone else she loves. She deserves to maybe at this point, but just isn’t strong enough. She swallows them. “Can’t say that there is.”

Lena smiles at her, sad and slow, like she doesn’t believe it any more than Kara does. “Good.” She stares down at their hands again for a moment. “I… I think I may to turn in for the night, if that’s alright. It’s been a long day.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“No need for that anymore, I don’t think. Thanks to our city’s resident hero I won’t get to a point of needing physical assistance anytime soon,” Lena says humorously. “I can get around just fine on my own.”

“That wasn’t... “ she trails. “Okay. Call if you need anything?”

Lena nods solemnly. “Always.”

She takes back her hand and drags her heels in the leaving process. When she finally makes it to the door, Lena gives her a small wave goodbye, never moving from her spot on the couch.

Kara barely makes it to the privacy of the alley outside the building before shooting off into the sky. Flying hard and fast, she makes her way to the desolate gorge a few states away. At night, it looks like a black scar cut deep into the moonlit desert.

Landing at the bottom she paces back and forth in the half-dark for a moment. It feels like the walls inside are closing in, that it’s too much, so much. The scream is guttural, rising up from the core and exploding rage outward. The echoes yell back at her and she punches at the the canyon walls until her fists throb, until she’s hoarse and tired and collapses.

All she can see is Lena. Lena screaming and pleading and lashing out just as helplessly as Supergirl holding her. And then her other Lena, looking at her like she’s the only one she can trust, like Kara is her greatest hero.

Jeremiah once told her, _‘If you’re in a hole stop digging’_. There was a very similar phrase on Krypton that Astra had passed along to her as well. Kara leans back against the rock. Sliding to ground, she turns her face towards the sliver of sky above, and sits in the fact that this valley of despair is one of her own creation.

She wants so badly for everything to be okay, and it just isn’t. That dichotomy between the ways Lena feels for both alias’ and then the way Kara feels for Lena is almost too much to bridge.

 _The way I feel for Lena_ , Kara laughs humorously to herself. The cruelest twist of all is discovering that too late. Even now, parsing where platonic and romantic attraction begin and end feels impossible, but isn’t that a good thing? To love someone so wholly, in so many ways, you can't categorize or separate them?

Still, loving Lena this new way, is theory without practice. She’s never been with Lena like that. Compliments and gifts, have never been given with that mutual intent, they’ve never hugged, held hands, touched, with that out in the open. Now, she may never get to. It’s almost shakespearean in its tragedy.

Kara’s feelings being out now there doesn’t change much either. Lena is still afflicted with the Ixodis. Kara is still a total garbage liar, paralyzed by the fear of losing another person she’s not sure she deserves at this point. Even if she did walk away, even if she told the truth and Lena never wanted to see her again, Supergirl is still the only thing keeping Lena alive.

There is no solution.

 _Supergirl, come in._ J’onn’s voice startles her over the comm.. _Massive fire on Fulton street, people trapped inside. Get there right away._

“On it,” and Kara shoots back into the sky, glad for the distraction.

Later that night, after rescuing the five children trapped in the fire, after tossing her soot covered suit in the laundry and scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing the the day from her skin, the idea returns. She’s faster than a speeding bullet and can leap tall building in a single bound, but she doesn’t have the power to make things right. She's just not strong enough. 

As with most nights lately, Kara doesn’t really sleep. She let’s sick guilt swirl, weaving unsolvable webs in her mind until the sun rises once more.

*_*_*_*_*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is somewhere between the 1/3 and 1/2 way mark in this fic. Things start to sew back up somewhat after this point. Sort of. 
> 
> As always, your guys' comments make this whole thing go. Feel free to stop by tumblr and yell at me there too :) spicycheeser.tumblr.com.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betcha thought I forgot about this fic. I haven't- I'm just a very slow writer. :) Enjoy.

*_*_*_*_*

“And-and- there are things. Things I need to work out, to say and do, before we could even explore that. Things I’d need to… to bring to light, that could change everything. I’ve kept this stuff to myself because if I can’t 100% guarantee I won’t hurt you, I’m not willing go there at all.” Kara heaves a sad sigh. “’I’ve been keeping that from you and I’m sorry.”

 _Oh_ , Lena thinks dumbly, because she was most definitely not expecting that.

Even through the haze of alcohol, one by one moments over the past few weeks start to click into place. The way Kara’s been acting, vacillating between confusingly close and aloof, the intimate touches, the clinginess, the comments, the presents, the ‘don’t leave me’, the checking out her cleavage after her shower, the- “Oh my god.”

“Lena I-”

“-Shhhhhhhhhh!” She holds up a gloved hand because she’s going to need a minute, Hell, a few _months_ to digest this. Not that her stomach is up for the task. The combination of inconvenient truth and all the wine has her gut rolling.

Almost instinctively, she ditches the remainder in her glass down the sink. Pre-gaming Kara’s arrival was a rookie mistake and now she’s way further towards the inebriated side of tipsy than she’d intended. No time to deal with that though because Kara’s still standing by, waiting.

And standing close, too close. Lena shakes her head like she’s trying to shake Kara away (which does _not_ help the vertigo). Space, she needs to think (though that’s becoming increasingly difficult). The walk to the living room couch is a wild one and even after arriving the world continues to feel tilted off its axis.

 _Well- deal with it,_ she chides herself. A slow and steady breathe in and out later she rallies, sitting as still as possible and breaks down the facts as she knows them.

_1 ) Kara maybe sort of has feelings for her._

_Kara. Maybe. Has feelings. For her._

Yeah, no, that’s not going to get attended to so easily.

It’s a sucker punch of hope and anti-hope and it makes her angry too. Anger is the easiest emotion after all ( _her third therapist told her that. Or was it number four?_ ). But it’s hard to be angry at Kara when Lena was the one that forcibly pulled this out of her. It’s always hard to be mad at Kara. Perfect Kara, with her perfect face, who’s sitting just on the other end of the couch now, looking at her with perfect significant concern. 

Perfect Kara is doing much better than Drunk Lena it seems. Drunk Lena wants to do a lot of things right now. Scream, for one, or maybe cry? Definitely ask Kara to give her explicit detail about these possible feelings ( _because if she’s going to torture herself, why not go all-in right?)_.

This is probably not the best time for that though right? When she’s a fucking mess? No. No, better lock it down, the way Lillian taught her. Toss it in a box, file it away, and deal with it when she’s sober, or maybe never. She’ll see how it goes. Right now calls for order, and _control_ , and sitting primly on the edge of her expensive couch that until this week Kara had been sleeping on and will probably never sleep on again and now will pretend that things are just fine because she hasn’t said a word in five full minutes and _yeah_ that’s probably bordering on suspicious.

“Well,” Lena starts, clearing her throat. “Thank you for telling me still. It’s… I guess it’s good to know where things stand. Even if it’s the unknown.”

“That’s it?”

 _Uh yeah_ Lena wants to balk. That sounded pretty damn poised, if she does say so herself. Certainly better than the literally temper tantrum or self-loathing spiral she’d rather indulge in. Maybe she didn’t come off as controlled as she thought? She doubles down, sits up a bit straighter, squares her shoulders and tries to project executive-boardroom level control. “Well I’m not exactly sure what to do with that information, frankly.”

“I guess that makes two of us,” Kara says, slumping back into the couch.

Oh. Now Kara looks small. And flustered. And confused. She looks like Lena feels and no this isn’t going well. It’s not going right. _Nothing has been going right though, has it?_

Then the idea strikes her. Why not do the _opposite_ of what she normally does. The opposite of what Lillian has taught her. The opposite!

The idea is as terrifying as it is thrilling. It’s not the first time she’s considered it. Fighting for emotional control is so much work. She’s always been a Dam working at capacity, letting the pressure of the emotions held back powering her forward, but to what end? Why hold it all in? Let it flow! Put it all on the table- Pain makes you stronger! (she read that on an athletic shoe advertisement just last week). It rings true like a call to arms, and she dives in because what the hell is liquid courage for if you don’t use it?

“I don’t want to pretend anymore. Or hold anything back,” she says, like she’s had more than a few seconds to commit to idea. Like the words alone don’t make her heart pound. “The truth, even painful or confusing, even if it fucks things up, is still reality. I don’t want to live in a fantasy world where I can’t trust the people I love to be honest with me. I’ve done that most of my life.”

Lena waits. And Kara waits too. They just sit there. Waiting. _So far so good? Should she push it over the edge?_ Lena debates to herself. If this is what she wants- truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, than it’s time to suck it up and just fucking say how she feels, right? _Right._

“The truth is I… I love you Kara.” It comes out more whisper than declaration but it’s out either way and oh that _does_ feel good. She buzzes like the sting when you rip off a band-aid and it pushes her to continue. “You’re my best friend… and as you know, a bit more than that too.”

“You’re my best friend too.” The flutter in Lena’s chest at Kara’s words only doubles when shes takes one of Lena’s gloved hands in hers.

“I just want you by my side. I don’t care how or what that looks like. I just want you with me.”

Oo, no, that’s not what she meant. Well, actually it is _totally_ what she means, but out loud kinda feels like a jinx. At the same time she can’t really give a fuck about how this is sure to crash and burn because it just feels _good_ to just say what she’s feeling. Addictive. And Drunk Lena is just _fiiiiiine_ with it actually. Let herself crash and burn for all she cares. When Kara comes back with a vehement sounding “Me too”, fate feels sealed, but she can’t bring herself to care about that either.

It only lasts a moment of course. The weight of their weird, vague vow now hanging between them makes Kara’s words feel almost absurd by comparison. “So I guess we just... keep on, as we are?”

“Yes, and no more secrets,” Lena says. It’s should be a moment in relief, but Kara is starting at her with a very strange look on her face.

“Kara?” _Something’s not right._ “There’s nothing else, right?”

“Can’t say that there is.”

 _Lawyer answer._ Lena just about swallows her tongue. The internal alarm tripped is muffled from the alcohol but noted all the same _._

She immediately plastering what she hopes is reads as a smile (she’s long lost feeling in her face enough to know for sure) because when she asked if there were any more secrets Kara just gave her a mother-fucking lawyer answer and she is far too drunk to stumble down what the hell that might mean.

In fact, she’s too drunk for much else. Tiredness hits her like a train. Suddenly, her eyes threaten to close. She allows them a slow blink to try and regroup. When she opens them again, she sees double and for a second two Kara’s are staring back before they merge into one again.

 _Yeah, it’s time to call it a night._ “I… I think I may to turn in for the night, if that’s alright. It’s been a long day.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

Yes. Of course she does. Because she’s an idiot the idea of Kara tucking her in, of placing a glass of water by her bedside, of telling her “sweet dreams” of being right outside the door if she needs anything, has been all she’s goddamn wanted.

“No need for that anymore, I don’t think,” she says instead, some autonomous self-preservation part of her brain kicking in. “Thanks to our city’s resident hero I won’t get to a point of needing physical assistance anytime soon. I can get around just fine on my own.”

“That wasn’t... “ Kara trails and Lena prays the thread won’t be picked back up she only has so much willpower right now. “Okay. Call if you need anything?”

Nodding, Lena rallies one last time and gives her best attempt at a serious face. “Always.”

Kara takes forever leaving, _forever,_ and continuously sends worried looks her way so much that Lena realizes she must really look like shit. When Kara finally blessedly departs, the door snicking shut anticlimactically, Lena makes a quick, tidy b-line for the bathroom and vomits. Her mouth tastes like Freshman year of college but at least her hair was tied back. That’s growth right there.

Forgoing brushing her teeth, she opting for a quick swish of mouthwash instead because _tired_ and _bed_ seem much more pressingto the moment than oral hygiene ever could.

It takes two tries to coordinate the brain-hand thing enough to shut off her bedside lamp but the darkness is totally worth it. The room still sways terribly and as she manages to drift into the blackness she imagines herself in the bowles of a boat, fighting the waves on a tumultuous sea. Once again riding out the storm on her own.

*-*-*

Lena surfaces the following morning to the wreckage of the day prior. Fortunately, the hangover does a bang-up job interrupting the perseverative worries about Kara and the rest of her life she should surely be having. Unfortunately, it almost makes it hard to do much of anything else either.

Testing the waters, she cracks an eye towards her bedside table, but winces them closed again at the feedback. Changing approach, she moves as little of her body as possible and fumbles blindly for her phone, managing to only knock a few pens an a pad of paper off before finding it. Pulling the item into her cave of covers, she checks the time.

The hellish beacon that is her screen proclaims it to be the ungodly hour of 7:42am. Underneath that, it presents what looks to be about 8? 10? Texts alerts from Kara.

_[Kara: good morning!!!] [5:32 am]_

_[Kara: how r u feeling] [5:32 am]_

_[Kara: got an early start on my day, swung by and left u a bottle of water and baggie with some aspirin outside your door] [5:33 am]_

_[Kara: aaaand now that I think of it, a baggie with unmarked loose pills outside your door probably doesn’t look good] [5:33 am]_

_[Kara: even if your apartment is the only one on that floor] [5:33 am]_

_[Kara: DO NOT EAT THOSE PILLS] [5:33 am]_

_[Kara: i’m hanging out w Alex today but if u need anything just text me] [5:38 am]_

_[Kara: anything at all] [5:40 am]_

_[Kara: also let me know that u got these texts] [5:44 am]_

_[Kara: and that you didn’t eat a baggie of sketchy pills on your doorstep] [5:44 am]_

Lena rallies enough to shoot back a quick affirmation that she’s alive, before tossing the phone and closing her eyes once more. How anyone can be that cheerful at 5 am, is beyond her. Kara’s mood always seems to rise with sun though, and only brightens from there. Lena can just picture her, starting her day serenading wineos and feeding rats, dancing down the street to Noonan’s like she’s Tracy whatever from that hairspray movie. Meanwhile, Lena feels like if the world were to open up and swallow her, that’d be just fine.

 _You need a Grease Bomb_ . The phrase smacks at her from the past, the memory somehow rising through the splitting pain in her head. She’s transported back to her Sophomore year of High School and her first real hangover. Lex sitting on the edge of her bed, shoving a hamburger towards her some unreasonable hour in the morning. “ _Eat it.The grease soaks up the alcohol. Trust me on this one, Lee_ ”.

The science behind the statement continues to be flawed, but she’s tested it out more times than she’d care to admit and the efficacy is undeniable. So while her stomach threatens riot at the thought of food, she finds herself pulling on an old pair of sneakers and rolling out the door before she can’t think better of it.

Immediately upon exiting her apartment she hears a tidy crunch beneath her shoe. The baggie of aspirin. _Kara_. Right.

Lena kicks it just inside her door to deal with later. She has an appointment with a greasy cow burger and she needs to get there before her body rejects itself. The fast food place is four blocks down the street but with the way her body protests with every movement, it feels epicly far away. Dragging herself there step by step is her main focus… until the elevator doors close and she catches sight of herself.

There she stands, face sans makeup and creased with exhaustion, hair with that fresh slept-in grease swirl, and outfit consisting only her of sleep-ironed grey sweats from yesterday, The ensemble is a PR nightmare in waiting but when she steps outside, sunlight blinding her, and headache nearly cracking her skull in two, she finds she doesn’t care about anything but getting some food in her to end this madness.

She forces her steps to fall in line with the beat of her pounding head like a drill sargent’s song just to stay motivated. It works, she makes it there eventually somehow and honestly she wishes there was confetti or something because this was not easy.

She makes her selection shamefully quick, going for the largest and most absurdly topped offering the franchise has and thank god the cashier maintains perfect stereotypical apathy because she’s not sure she has the energy to defend the selection.

A quick exchange of cash for goods and she’s headed back with her bounty.

The streets are quiet, empty. Probably not unusual for this side of the city on a weekend morning, but she can’t recall the last time she out and about at this time. It’s hard to focus on that, or anything else really, when the smell of her food continues to waft enticingly from the bag. She’s still five minutes from home but in a fit of sheer she’s not even sure what, she decides not to wait a moment longer. 

Catching her reflection in a storefront window, she barely recognizes herself. Noticeably hungover, in yesterday’s sweats, chomping down on a Double Bacon BBQ Belly Burger in public for the world to see. She should feel disgusting (she does), she should feel self conscious (always) but she should not feel this _good_. The absurd grin on her face seems out of place and she can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it. If Lillian saw her like this she might have have the coronary Lena’s burger should be causing.

Finally back at the apartment, she plops unceremoniously down on the floor between the couch and coffee table and spreads the remaining items out before her. Flipping on the TV, she’s greeted by the news, and realizes with horror that it’s nearly 8:30 and she hasn't checked her email even once.

The panic stricken fumbling for her phone is not becoming, nor is the string of expletives she lets out when she finds TWENTY-TWO emails from the COO of their Nagano manufacturing fraction about an imminent worker strike.

She runs for the door before realizing that she’s still in sweatpants- an outfit that’s not exactly going to broadcast the sense of poise and control to the panicking people on the other side of the ocean.

She manages to pull herself together in record time, nearly leaping into her least confining pantsuit, and is back out the door and crawling into her waiting car a cool 18 minutes later.

“LCorp Tony. And step on it.”

“You got it boss,” her driver winks, rolling up the partition knowingly as he speeds off.

She buckles her seatbelt and sighs heavily. The lull has barely settled before it smacks her.

_Kara might have feelings for her._

Lena groans aloud to her empty car, _very much_ not wanting to think about this right now. 

But it’s there, spider-webbing across her mind like the first crack of an iced over lake when the weather shifts. She tries to freeze it out but ideas, worries, (false) hopes, splinter and spread under the weight of it.

It’s world shattering yet also so completely ambiguous, and Lena knows that it can only end badly.

She is a literally danger to others, she could never touch Kara without killing her. Even if Lena was selfish enough to endanger someone she loved with proximity (something she’s endlessly guilty about doing currently as it is), what little would be left for them? What would a relationship consist of? Pancakes for dinner? Holding gloved hands on the couch? Laughing at their favorite TV shows together?

Lena’s whole being contorts at the thought because god _yes_ that would be enough for her. More than enough. Her need for that for that kind of intimacy and the idea that she could have that with Kara, reverberates inside her like a struck drum.

It’s almost enough to shake her out of it. In the end it’s a pipe dream and a selfish one. Lena’s lived in a world without touch most of her life, but she wouldn’t wish that on her worst enemy, let alone the woman she loves.

They arrive at LCorp a few moments later and she shoves those worries back down to the depths where they belong.

The clack of her heels echo hollowly as she crosses the marble foyer to the elevator. Riding up she fixes her lipstick in the reflection and ignores the little tug of disappointment at how effortless way her business mask slips on, clicking into place. _Lena Luthor, CEO_ is not a role she relishes. Unlike R&D, the work lacks creativity and challenge. In many ways, the game of business is predictable. It’s just a matter of moving the pieces around the board until everyone is back in check.

It’s still exhausting though. Two hours and a fresh reminder she needs to brush up on her Japanese later, the crisis is managed suitably and she’s alone with her thoughts once more. The building is quiet and dark, and the vacuum of the video conference leaves makes it feel stifling.

She grabs a bottle of water from the office mini fridge and stands in front of her desk at a loss. It’s early-afternoon and going home feels a bit pointless. Then again, so does re-engaging with the emotional mess she left there.

Her feet steer her almost automatically to the elevator, down to her private lab, but arriving there doesn’t seem to spark anything further either. Dropping unceremoniously into her desk chair she sways back and forth, evaluating. The additional whiteboard she’d ordered sits at attention next to the old one, wheeled in at some point, by Jess most likely (the list of people with access to her lab can be counted on two fingers, after all.) Its pure, blank surface stares back at her presenting a challenge, though she’s not sure to what.

Still at a loss, she rolls her chair a bit closer to face it. Moments pass by. She slouches down a bit. Stares. On a strange whim gives herself a little spin around, but her stomach instantly protests the action. Skidding to a stop, she faces the board once more. “I’m being ridiculous.”

The whiteboard doesn’t disagree.

 _What is she doing down here?_ _What is she doing_ ** _in general_** _?_

She spent two hours in a meeting today, negotiating for worker benefits so a manufacturing plant can stay open. A plant, with personel and technology capable of creating some of the future of advanced bioengineering products, capable of changing the world.

But it can’t. Because she hasn’t come up with them yet.

Rationally she knows that it isn’t just her, that she has staff with specialties and expertise and years of experience working night and day coming up with ideas. Yet another part of her knows- _knows-_ that in the end it will come down to her. This is what she’s meant to do. She feels it in her bones.

 _Legacy_. She’s used that word in interviews for years now, chanted it to herself, fashioned her world around the idea of it even. Her life has been perpetually centered around legacy, around bequest, her gift to leave for the world. Yet there she was, a week or so ago, showing up to her last moments empty handed. With nothing to show for others, what was left of her? If she had died, what would have been said? The life she’s led (or lack thereof) doesn’t leave many to mourn her certainly, and the image it provokes is too pitifully Dickensian to linger on.

The papers would have to say something, she supposes, though that would likely be as lacking in substance.

_Lena Luthor: Hard Worker. She tried._

Her life is as blank as the board in front of her.

The reaction is visceral. She gets up, writing her name in the upper left corner before she even realizes what she’s doing.

Knee jerk reaction passed, she’s left with four letters, black and white, staring back at her. It looks odd, stark. She draws vertical line a bit to the right of it, some instinctual need to wall off whatever this is from the rest of the untouched space.

Taking a small step back, she evaluates. She taps the capped marker into her palm. _1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8…_ an old habit when she’s trying to work on a particularly sticky problem.

 _Lena Luthor: An unsolved equation_ , she thinks. _How extra._

She should erase it. This is nonsense, a waste of time.

She doesn’t. Instead, taps the marker into her palm a few more times.

 _Legacy_ , she thinks. She has a second chance at it, at making her life something more. Something for her as well as others. What would she want in her life, _from_ her life, besides work? The answer is easy yet painfully hard, and she can feel frustration rearing its ugly head. She steps up quickly and writes the first word that comes to mind.

 _Friends_.

“Ughhhhh…” she groans, and wants to erase it. Wants to leave the room entirely. _How pathetic._

She roots her feet in place. Stays within arms reach. Continues on.

_Inventing. Adventure. Travel. Art. Music. Fun. Laughter._

There’s a slight pause, she bites her lip.

 _Love_.

She scrawls _Family_ fast, before she can stop herself and finally retreats.

Stepping back, she examines her work. “Not bad for your average Kindergartener.”

She makes herself stare at it. Yes, this may be what most people- even little children- want, and it strikes her hard that she’s never really stopped and considered having them herself. Never. Not even when she _was_ that age.

 _Maybe she shouldn’t have skipped a few grades_ _after all_ , she thinks dryly.

Her eyes drift to the other whiteboard though and she’s reminded that second chance or not, her current reality still precludes those things. Friends, relationships, interacting with the world- they all present opportunity for, or necessitate, touch.

All the more reason to get back to work on a cure.

She moves to erase her half of board but at the last moment leaves it. Instead she hurriedly, almost desperately, begins filling the remaining board space with new ideas and theories. There’s slight relief in moving, but it’s the false kind- like when you flip a cushion over to hide a stain. She saw Kara do that once, and it struck her as odd. Lillian usually just threw out the whole couch when there was a spill. There’s a metaphor there, one she’ll unpack another time.

For now she settles into a familiar rhythm, losing herself to the strange comfort of science. Of equations with definitive answers, and elemental relationships that have tangible cause and effect. Time flies and all too soon she feels the telltale twitch of her eyelid signifying too many hours under fluorescent lights and too little coffee. Her watch confirms, it’s quarter past nine at night.

Up to her office and back down, another quick car ride and she’s home once more

She nearly steps on the baggie of aspirin again when she comes through the door, which circles her thoughts succinctly back around to Kara.

Almost supernaturally, as she’s making her way to the kitchen with intentions of fixing a hot toddy, her phone buzzes in her pocket.

_[Kara: you home safe? i worry] [10:15 pm]_

Lena chuckles. Kara always seems to have a sixth sense about where she is.

[Lena: As a matter of fact, yes. Just about to crawl into bed.] [10:17 pm]

She continues on with her original intended pursuit, making her drink with practiced intention. She gingerly cups the hot mug on the way to her room, inhaling the potent vapers greedily- a panacea for her day.

After a quick costume change she finally settles back into her covers and can’t help the little bark of a laugh at what awaits when she finally checks her phone.

_[Kara: wish i was there too] [10:17 pm]_

_[Kara: i mean WITH you] [10:17 pm]_

_[Kara: like just with you cause i miss you! not with you in your bed necessarily] [10:18 pm]_

_[Kara: not that that’s bad? or maybe but not like that. sorry that came out weird i don’t know what i’m saying clearly] [10:18 pm]_

_[Kara: lena? did i make this weird? i’m sorry] [10:23 pm]_

Lena grins as she types back.

[Lena: You didn’t! I was just busy fixing a nightcap.] [10:26 pm]

[Lena: Though, I was going to say. Moving a bit fast are we? Not that I’d mind, obviously] [10:26 pm]

She adds a winky face for good measure, hoping her emoji usage is rare enough to probably distract from the content, and chews her lip waiting for a response. Lena’s flirted with Kara before, fairly consistently since they’re first meeting actually, but this may be the first time Lena knows for sure that it’s being interpreted that way. She’s not sure what to expect, nor even sure what she’s hoping for really. Negotiating people in the boardroom is easy, these kinds of relationships far less so. 

_[Kara: ha oh good. im honestly a bit too lost to be going anywhere fast lol] [10:28 pm]_

_[Kara: speaking of putting things in order- have you seen this new show on netflix about the little lady that helps people clean??? it’s amazing and i can’t stop watching it[10:28 pm]_

The topic shift is clunky but welcome. They chat just a bit more, Lena letting Kara’s ramble lull her until she finally cuts it off with half-hearted words about needing some rest. They bid goodnight, Kara’s standard _luv ya!_ sign off making her heart flutter needlessly. She replies with her normal single heart emoji as well, but can’t shake how things feel like they’ve shifted just a tad. It’s almost imperceivable but there, tectonic plates converging creating new and totally unexplored area rising slowly between them.

There’s a shift of some kind within herself as well. She spent the day alone, as she normally does, yet alone felt more full and more empty than ever somehow. Lena falls asleep thinking of an island in the middle of a vast sea. Alone for eons until slowly but surely others join, rising from the sea one by one, building a chain of new earth to be explored.

  


*_*_*_*_*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thanks to my Super Beta, NataliaWhite92 for basically letting me know exactly how to make this writing business stuff work good. And once again, feel free to yell at me on Tumblr (spicycheeser) about the fic or anything else that strikes your fancy.


	11. Chapter 11

*_*_*_*_*

  


_[Kara: can i walk you to work?][6:25 am]_

Lena stares at the text like hieroglyphics, and it takes a full moment to compute. It’s not a wild or strange idea by any means, but it’s something they’ve never really done before.

[Lena: Okay, but we’ll have to leave fairly soon. I have a 8am meeting.][6:27am]

_[Kara: great!!! i’m almost there see you in a few!][6:27 am]_

Lena continues starting at her phone for a full count of ten before realizing she needs to move.

Rushing through the last of her routine, she’s just slipped on a pair of her more sensible heels when the knock comes at the door. 

“Coming!” She chimes, making her way over. She opens the door to find Kara standing with a sheepish grin, a coffee in each hand. Somehow, even in the cheap artificial lighting of the hallway, Kara seems to glow. She’s beautiful and Lena’s breath catches in her chest, choking on the swell of deep affection.

Kara must interpret her expression as upset because she launches into explanation. “Sorry, am I too early? I grabbed coffee to save time.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Lena accepts the offered beverage but almost drops it. It’s hot, almost too hot to hold, even through the insulation of her thick gloves. She sets it down quickly on the little table next to her door. “Wow, how are you even holding that?”

“Oh, I, uh- thick skin I guess? Haha.”

Lena squints at Kara’s odd laugh but dismisses it, heading to the kitchen to retrieve a travel mug instead. Transferring the drink over she snaps the new lid in place. “Okay, ready.”

“Great.” Kara grins and they make their way.

Out the street, LCorp looms in the distance. It’s only about 15 blocks away, barely a mile, which should give them plenty of time (and maybe she’s walking a little slower unconsciously because of that). Kara provides a running narrative for their journey that includes comments on little sights they pass, interspersed with talk of work or the latest snack she’s discovered.

Things between them appear the same as ever in many ways, but there’s a dangerous undercurrent flowing as well. That truth of attraction, of mutual interest in a nebulous _more_ , hides just below the surface and as much as Lena would like to ignore it, she can’t. She feels like a teenager with a crush, hypervigilant for clues as to what’s coming next. Things feel charged, so much so that the few times their sleeves brush the little jolt of excitement Lena gets is so potent she has to double check there’s no actual skin contact.

As they pass through a particularly congested area, daily commuters packed and waiting at a crosswalk, Kara places her hand on Lena’s lower back to guide them through. It feels so natural and right that it’s only when they've made through to the other side that both realize what transpired

  
“Sorry, was that- was that weird to do?” Kara starts, crinkle furrowed as she works out what she means, what _it_ means.

“No, it’s fine,” Lena soothes and reaching out, gives Kara’s arm a little squeeze of reassurance.

 _It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do_ , she tell herself, squeezing Kara’s arm. However then, prompted by nothing but terrible instincts apparently, Lena’s hand slides down. It traverses almost on its own accord, down over biceps and strong forearms, until her gloved hand clasps and settles into Kara’s.

The move is unconscious, spontaneous. It takes Lena by surprise and, judging by the way Kara’s eyebrows have retreated practically to her hairline, she’s not the only one.

Suddenly there they are, standing at the corner of 7th and Market, hand in hand.

 _Let go, let go, let go, let go_ Lena’s brain chants until she does. She manages to give a little squeeze before she doing so, trying to play it all off as though it was about reassurance rather than reaching out. (Rather than reaching for something she most definitely shouldn’t.)

The rest of the walk is blank. She’s vaguely aware Kara has picked up the conversation again, but the words are drowned out by her own internal flogging. _She cannot lean into this, cannot continue these little indulgences, these selfish little slips_. The internal berating is so consuming that It’s only when they’ve stopped walking does Lean realize that Kara is looking at her with anticipation, waiting for something. “Sorry what did you say?”

“Oh, uh, just that this was nice.” Kara shrugs.

Lena relaxes slightly. “Oh. Yes. It was. Fresh air is good.”

Kara looks fidgety. Her knuckles are white, wrapped around the strap of her messenger bag, and she keeps shifting weight unevenly from foot to foot. When her throat bobs over words struggling to come out, Lena tries to beat her to the punch.

“Well I better g-”

“- _I need to talk to you about something!_ ”

It burst forth so violently, Lena actually takes a step back. Kara does too, and tries again. “Sorry, I just- I have to talk to you. About something. Not right now obviously but like, whenever we can next. There’s just something- something I really, really, need to tell you.”

“Alright,” Lena says, though it’s anything but. “I’ll look at my schedule when I get upstairs and let you know.”

“Okay. Good. I mean, thanks. I… yeah. I guess I’ll see you soon then?”

Like it’s a question. Like Lena could possibly stay away more than a day. Like she wasn’t doomed from the start. “Yes of course. I’ll see you then.”

There’s a pause before their hug.They part ways, but the pause follows her. It sits heavily in the pit of her stomach as she ascends to her office. 

Lena did that, _she_ made that pause. She changed everything when she let her feelings slip out and now Kara wants to have a talk. Lena sorts a disgruntled huff at the idea of it. It must be a record- getting someone to break up with you before you’ve even considered dating. She should have Jess look it up.

There is, of course, another possibility- a far worse potential reason behind the request. There is a small chance Kara might want to say just the opposite. She might say that those maybe-type feelings have become more solid, and something she wants to pursue.

Lena tugs at her sleeves and shoves that idea, and its associated guilt and thrill, way, way down because Lena can never let that happen. While the Ixodis is still part of her, fused to her DNA, real relationship is too dangerous to ever entertain. She knows this with solid certainty so it says something about her own selfish, morally grey existence that the idea of that relationship still sparks something hopeful with in her.

The elevator door dings, announcing arrival at her office floor, and Lena is quick to extinguish those thoughts. _Let go, let go, let go, let go._ She places Kara and those troubles aside, letting the mantle of Lena Luthor CEO, set firmly in place.

There’ll be plenty of time later to sit and wonder just what it is she should let go of, and which way she should let herself fall.

  


*_*_*

She drops her tablet.

It’s half from physical weakness and half from shock _of_ the physical weakness, but either way her grip just went, right in the middle of a meeting. She was able to regain composure fairly quickly but now, alone in her office hours later, a wave of anxiety that washes over as she thinks about it.

The dull ache and weakness is how it started last time and if she’s honest, there’s been a slow but gradual decline over the last few days or so. It’s just the nature of disease’s progression so it really shouldn’t come as a shock, but it does.

It’s not that she’s in denial necessarily, she’s just perhaps done too good a job compartmentalizing. Sure, her evenings (and afternoons as well, lately) have been spent focused on a cure for her condition, but in a distanced way. The line she drew on the whiteboard only days ago separating the equation of her life from the those about her condition, seems to extend to her own mind as well. It has to, she rationalizes. It’s why doctors are the worst patients. The moment you lose objectivity, your work is compromised. 

It’s more than just that, of course. The surprise is merely a thin veneer over her concern because in all actuality this time really is different than the time before. She knows the pain that’s to come this time, in exquisite detail. Last time she was able to rationalize that pain as natural if you’re dying slowly, so no need be upset or linger on when it’s necessary. When it’s unavoidable.

This time though the ending is not up to fate. Another unknown on the board. And the fact that she hasn’t heard from her super-powered life preserver since their last meeting, doesn’t help either.

The spreadsheets strewn across her desk are momentarily forgotten as she absently massages her afflicted hand. Hesitantly, she pulls off the long black gloves, examining for clues she knows aren’t there. She’s taken to wearing them all the time now, even at home, so seeing her bare hands is an almost disconnected sensation.

Thin wrists, long fingers, trim blunted nails painted black. Lillian often said dark polish made her hands look manly somehow, always finding a way of pulling the rug out from even Lena’s smallest personal grooming preferences.

There’s nothing seemingly remarkable about their appearance, but Lena knows better. She can do things with these hands. She’s built things. Destroyed things. She’s _felt_ things.

Flexing, she traces the grooves between metacarpals and knuckles. The sense of touch itself never seemed remarkable either, until her loss of it. It’s odd to think that only when you’re touching someone else can you understand what skin feels like without the sensory input of your own fingers confusing it. She wishes she had taken better advantage of that ability when she had it. She wishes she had been brave enough to chase her ever-present desire for human touch when she could. She wishes she fought for it, held it tight, and committed it to memory because now that ability is gone.

She gloves her hands once more. Best to keep them out of sight (and out of mind) for the remainder of her day. It’s the safe, responsible choice for everyone. It’s only upon reaching her personal lab that night, after each of the biolocks click shut behind her behind her, that she feels it’s safe to let her hands roam free once more. 

The lab has been her safe place for a lot of things lately. She can see the pattern forming already, enough to begin feeling guilty about. Her morning routine is the same as it ever was- her hitting the ground running upon arrival and driving hard all the way through to lunch. After that, things have shifted.

First, she’s actually taking a lunch. She doesn’t always get to slip down to the park for falafel and a quick visit with Baniti, but she has been good about putting down work and picking up something to eat. The bigger change is how hard it’s been to jump back into the work in progress when she returns.

She’s used to immersing herself in things she has no interest in (the Luthor household trained her up very quickly to this task) but lately there’s a growing aversion to it. The paperwork, conference calls, meetings, and reviews seem so… pointless. That’s when something inside her tugs back downstairs. Excel equations fall flat when compared to the complexity of the things she works on there and at least twice per meeting she finds herself doodling designs for new inventions in the margins of her agenda notes. 

Only moments like now, when she arrives in her artificially lit lab, two stories below ground, that she feels like she can finally breathe. Here, her focus is crystal clear, she can let her mind work as fast and free as it wishes. Here, she feels more herself than she has in years.

And that’s a problem.

Lab work is an indulgence that’s started affecting her work as a CEO. It’s why Lillian had purposefully kept away from R&D. _Distraction_ . Lillian had called it, when Lena had first been called up to serve. _Below your pay grade_ , as if Lena had applied for the job in the first place.

And that’s just it, she never did. It was understood growing up that Lex would be Lionel’s successor. Lex had even said that when he took over, he wanted Lena to be head of R&D, _“You’ve got the mind for it Lee. You’re a natural. I’m going to need someone that knows what the fuck they’re doing down there. Someone that I can trust.”_ To this day, nothing has ever filled her with more pride than that. Being relegated to behind the scenes was the only decision made for her that coincided with her own wishes. She should have never been surprised it didn’t last.

 _Time_ , she thinks, glancing at the lab’s wall clock ticking off the seconds. _When does she get to live life on her own terms?_

Moving about the space, she checks on samples, and is just about the dive into the next phase when she gets a text from Jess:

_[Jess: Alex Danvers has arrived for your appointment.][5:45 pm]_

When Lena texts back to just send her down to the lab, there is a longer-than-usual response before a resigned, _[Jess: Certainly, Ms. Luthor.][5:48 pm]_

Not long after, there's a knock on the door. Lena scans her palm and retina and the locks click open to reveal Agent Danvers’ skeptical expression on the other side.

“Your secretary told me to just come down. Had to give loan me her security swipe card even.” She holds it up as means of explanation. “She didn’t seem too happy about.”

 _No, Jess wouldn’t be,_ Lena thinks, repressing a grin.“She takes security very seriously.”

“So do you, it seems” the agent says, gesturing to the biometric lock as she follows Lena in.

“This is my _personal_ lab. Jess is one of only two people who have access.”

“Probably quite a few things the DEO would want to know about in here.”

She may be Kara’s sister, but there's a reason her professional title is _Agent_. Alex makes no illusion to cover up the way she’s scans each surface, taking every observable detail of Lena’s lab.

“Oh, I’m certain of it,” Lena replies with minimum diplomacy. “Speaking of which, give me one more moment to before we get into DEO business. This,” she gestures towards the messy whiteboard of equations, “has me a bit stumped.”

Joining her at her side, Alex moves next to Lena and surveying the problem at hand. A moment passes before, quite surprisingly, Alex approaches the board. Grabbing a blue marker, she holding it up in a question.

“Go for it,” Lena shrugs, curious.

“Have you thought about move this here?” Alex asks.

“Tried it. It breaks down in the third stage of metabolizing.”

She pauses. “And this?”

“That’s how my lab exploded in the first place.”

“That’s a no then,” she chuckles darkly, taking a step back to observe again. “What about reversing this part?”

“Reversing it?” Lena says, pushing away from the table she’s leaning to join the other woman at the board..

“Well, not _reversing_ it. Think photosynthesis vs. cellular respiration. And apply it to this portion...”

“I… hadn’t thought of that,” Lena says, unable to keep the wonder out of her voice. “I will definitely give that a try. Thank you.” She appraises the woman next to her further. “I didn't realize the DEO was so through in their biomedical training.”

“It isn’t. I was in the middle of my MD/Ph.D- genetic engineering- when... when the DEO recruited me.” There’s more story there clearly, but Alex shrugs it away. “I never intended to work outside research actually.”

“Me neither,” Lena says, quicker and more eager than intended. “I would have been perfectly happy to happy to live under fluorescent lights in some basement, just doing R&D.”

“And yet here we are. On the front lines.”

“Pulled into leadership roles, ready or not.”

“Taking on the mantle so everyone else’s things keep moving. Even if it means sacrificing yours.”

Lena’s very familiar with the tone sentiment. It’s a particular brand of resentment, negated by guilt and obligation, with an emphasis on service rather than fulfillment. It’s not the kind of thing you reveal to just anyone either, and certainly not the kind of personal tidbit that she expected the very private Agent Danvers to share.

_How she’s supposed to respond to it? Does she share something likewise of her own? Is it quid pro quo? Does she change the subject or say sorry?_

Lena is suddenly overwhelmed with what exactly to do. It feels different than their previous interactions. There’s something heavy here, something full. An action potential that Lena wants to spark, but what if she’s wrong? What if this is just desperate projection on her part? She shakes it off, goes the safer route. “Sorry. Seems I’ve gotten us off on a tangent, when you came for lab work.” She begins to roll up her sleeve when she notices what’s missing. “Where’s your medical bag?’

“ _That_ is actually the reason I came.” Alex deflates a bit, a tad of that easy rapport dissipating. It almost seems like disappointment almost in the change of topic. _Of course_ , Lena thinks. _Blew it again_. Before she can bury those feelings properly, Alex continues on. “I came to say the DEO won’t be any more mandating or collecting any further lab work or testing.”

Things screech to a halt. “Oh.” 

“Due to Supergirl’s ongoing _intervention_ ,” Alex traverses a bit awkwardly over the word. “Your condition is no longer viewed as a threat nor a crisis from the DEO’s point of view and they plan to reallocate resources elsewhere.” Alex’s face is calm, but there's a tension to her body that says it’s not news she’s necessarily copacetic with either.

“I understand.” And Lena does. It’s logical. The DEO has bigger issues to tackle and this illness, this affliction, has always been just _her_ problem. She caused it, it only really affects her, so it stands to reason she it should and would be on her alone to undo it. Another thought occurs to her though- one that has surprising impact. “So, you won’t be coming back for more lab work then.”

“No need, from the DEO’s point of view,” Alex replies. “Why? You going to miss me draining the blood from you every few days.”

“Of course not,” Lena pauses. There is a real, deep, pang of sadness though, of loss, as surprising as it is palpable. She forcibly tries to lighten it. “It is a shame it has to end when just as I’d gotten used to dealing with your attitude, is all.”

“ _My_ attitude?” Alex scoffs, good naturedly. “You might be the worse patient of all time.”

Lena shrugs. “There are no bad patients, only bad doctors.”

“You tried to tell me I was drawing your blood wrong at first.”

“Well you were!”

“Psssh, in your dreams Luthor,” Alex rolls her eyes.

There’s a beat, where things quiet, and it feels like emotions drop back to reality far faster than Lena is prepared for.

“I guess I better get going.”

Alex moves to the door, and before Lena even realizes it, the word explodes from her like a volcano. “Wait!”

Alex does, pausing and Lena at a loss as what to do now. How is she going to explain herself? How can she explain how much Alex’s silent strength, even just having someone who listens, has meant. How can she explain how much she still needs and wants that easy banter, to have someone that meets her on her level, in that moment, without all the other baggage?

How can she tell Alex that this connection building between them reminds her of someone else, of Lena’s own sibling? A connect that, until now, she’d forgotten how much she missed. Needed.

This thing welling up inside her is strong, so strong that she automatically recoils and says the first thing she can think of. “I know you don’t have to be here in any official capacity, but what about an unofficial one?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if I hired you,” and Lena internally cringes but is in too deep to stop. “To help me with the antidote, I mean.”

At a loss, she digs herself deeper. “I just mean, It’s clear you’re more than up to the task. And your specialty experience with alien biology would be invaluable. I could compensate you very well.”

Alex’s face sours at that last part and something inside Lena cracks. “Thanks, but I don’t need another job Lena. I’m busy enough with the one I have.”

“Than I won’t pay you.”

Eyebrows raise at that one. _This is pathetic_ , she berrates herself, in a voice that sounds suspiciously like Lillian. G _row up and say what you mean for christsake. Before you lose someone else_. “The truth is I- I’ve enjoyed these check ups.”

“Masochist.”

The joke is light, but the look is a kind one. So kind in fact, that Lena’s not sure she can bare the loss of it if the conversation doesn’t go the way she hopes. “I like your company. It’s been a long time since I felt comfortable enough to joke around, and be myself with like this. I’ve enjoyed that more than I can possibly express.”

She resists the urge to cross her arms, to anchor herself. This requires vulnerability. Demands it. “So what about joining me as a friend then? I won’t pay you but I _would_ get pizza. And maybe a few beers. We could eat them in the other room to maintain sterility of course, but it might be nice. If we could hang out,” she bites her lip. “Just a couple of reformed lab rats talking about science.”

Alex’s eyes squint, appraising, before slow smile draws up one side of her mouth. “The Deluxe Combo pie from Abandanzzio’s is my favorite.”

Lena tries not to let her heart explode.

“And I think I’m free next Monday. I’ll text you,” Alex says, heading towards the door.

“Yes that- that would be, excellent,” she says it fast, unable to contain her excitement at this point. They walk the few strides together, past the bio lock to the elevator on the other side.

Alex gets in, and turns to face Lena once more. “See you then, Luthor,” and gives a funny little two finger salute off her brow.

“Yes. See you then. Danvers,” she pipes awkwardly as elevator doors close.

There are no security cameras on this level. She takes comfort in the fact that no will ever witness the embarrassing little happy dance she does.

She feels… accomplished. She may not be able to physically touch someone else, but she reached out anyway. It went against every lesson ever taught to her, but it felt good. Really good. It’s good to know she can take hold of her own destiny and take control of what needs controlling.

Lena feels so good that she picks up her phone and opens a new text message.

In all her today musings about hands, touch, and lost opportunities, she has quite pointedly ignored thinking about the one person she _can_ still touch. She has focused away attention from that person (no, not person, that _being_ ) because the lack of control she has over variables involved makes her a bit queasy. She has been sitting in knots, just waiting since their last meeting and it’s only now that she realizes that maybe doesn’t have to be that way.

She holds out her hand, palm side down. The tremor is slight, but there. Weak and weakening each moment that goes by.

 _But it doesn’t have to, does it_?

She texts.

[Lena: Alex- could you please pass along a message to Supergirl? Tell her I’d like to meet tomorrow night to discuss logistics for her future interventions, as you put it. She’ll know where.][6:32 pm]

_[Agent Alex Danvers: Will do.][6:33 pm]_

Lean sighs, body relaxing a bit. It feels like a weight (or rather a _wait_ ) has been lifted. She doesn’t have to be in pain, she can be in control of this. Of her life.

Sinking into the worn office chair, she gives it a little spin because there’s no one to tell her not to. In this moment, there’s no one to tell her _anything_ and for once she lets herself enjoy it. For one moment, she lets herself forget that nothing gold can stay, and basks in the idea of a world where she has that kind of agency over things. She leans back and imagines for a full five minutes, then promptly gets back to work.

  
  


*_*_*_*_*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am all about Alex & Lena Science Buddies Brotp (if that was not apparent already in this fic), so expect so much more of that. 
> 
> Also, spoiler alert, guess what happens next chapter? Kara finally tells/gets to tell Lena that secret of hers. So that's something. :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whew* This is a long one (and very tricky to write). Enjoy!

*_*_*_*_*

Kara texts asking if they can walk to work again. Or meet for breakfast. Or lunch.

Normally the insistence wouldn’t even be noteworthy, but this different. Lena knows Kara isn’t blowing up her phone just to hang out. It’s to meet because she wants to tell Lena something. Something ‘ _very important’_.

Lena declines all invitations for the day, tells Kara they can meet for lunch tomorrow instead. She already has one super (pun intended) intense rendezvous planned for that evening and that’s enough stress for one day, thanks.

The morning is rough regardless. It starts with a disastrous two-hour meeting, having her own ideas mansplained to her in not one but _two_ different languages, and is followed by a call from her attorney stating someone is suing the Luthor Family for pain and suffering- yet again. To top it all off, the weakness in her hands seems to have spread to her other limbs, practically almost overnight. The aching effectively reminds her of her evening plans and sets off another round that low level churn of anxiety in her stomach at the thought of it. By the time lunch rolls around she’s more than ready for the break.

Baniti is at his regular park corner when she arrives, ready to vend small talk and falafel. She devours both greedily and when she reaches the messier end of her lunch, excuses herself to a bench down the way to finish.

As she’s cleaning her fingers (newly acquired travel-sized wet wipes at her disposal for just this purpose) her phone buzzes.

_[Jess: Your 1pm has cancelled, so no need to hurry back.][12:19 pm]_

_[Jess: Yes, that IS my way of imploring you to take a well deserved break from the office.][12:20 pm]_

_[Jess: And yes, I can tell you need it, so don’t argue.][12:20 pm]_

Being handled by her secretary is never pleasant, but Lena can connect with the logic if not the sentiment. Faced with a difficult morning, most people would want the opportunity to take an extended lunch, right?

Disposing of her lunch wrapper, she stands awkwardly, at a loss. Heading back to work early isn’t an option if she wants to avoid the wrath of Jess, so she falls back on the first thing she can think of: Coffee. Simple, normal, and If she heads to that little place on the other side of the park, she’ll definitely kill enough time for Jess to be satisfied

It’s a short walk and soon the cafe’s cheerful lavender and white sign is peaking through the trees at her. She’s noticed this place several times on her drive to and from work, something about the friendly lettering drawing her attention. _It’s nice to have an opportunity to check it out_ , she supposes.

The inside is just as pleasant. Bright white of countertops softened by warm, homey touches; a vase of flowers, a wooden shelf with succulents. Couples murmur to each other over wide-mouthed mugs, and singles with laptops and headphones dot tables in between. The atmosphere is calm and subtle and Lena is concentrating so hard on absorbing it through osmosis, she startles when the barista calls her back to attention.

“Ma’am, how can I help you today?”

“Oh! I…” Lena glances at the menu board just long enough to be overwhelmed, and falls back on her regular. “A double espresso please.”

“For here or to go?”

Lean pauses, and catches herself. The people here are moving at a gentle pace, one that Lena would very much like to emulate. If she has any chance of doing so, she’s going to need something to sip, not rocket fuel The occasion calls for savoring, not fuel injection. “Actually, can I have a latte? Small.”

“Alrighty. To go?”

“For here.”

He rings her up an she makes her way down the counter. Her drink arrives only a few minutes later and now she’s faced with the new challenge of where to place herself. Most of the couches and armchairs are taken, which is fine. She’d feel weird sitting in such a seat when she has a perfectly good couch of her own in her office. Making her way to the bar seats lining the window,, she slides into the last available tucked pleasantly into the corner.

A copy of the _National City Phoenix_ is sits on the counter and she places her mug beside it. _NCP_ is the free, weekly, alternative paper for the city. Little kiosks dot most corners downtown, open for the taking, and it’s not unusual to find well- thumbed copies literally anywhere people collect. She’s never really read it though but now, mocha latte settled in its ubiquitous wide-mouth cup, it seems fitting to do so.

There are a few articles about the city, featured topics, followed by several pages of movie reviews, music venue lineups, and other local events. The back few pages are fully devoted to ads for marijuana dispensaries and adult entertainment. This issue also appears to be their annual “Best of National City”, voted on over a period of a few months prior.

Lena takes a sip of her latte, still a bit too hot, as she pursues. Despite the honorifics awarded, none of the reviewed establishments sound familiar. It’s an astounding slap of reality how little she’s explored the city considering the length of her residency. In fact, outside of Kara’s occasional insistent dragging her to a few hole-in-the-wall places, she hardly strays from home or work.

The paper lists many expected categories (restaurants, music venues, bars) as well as several less expected. “Best People Watching”, “Best for Munchies”... but it’s the “Best of Friends” section that finally catches her eye. Underneath, it ranks popular or unusual social gathering opportunities. The list is diverse: an adult arcade, a Kitten Cafe, an elderly woman who opens her house once a week to come and talk about philosophy and have snacks, and a local rec center that hosts a rotation of community clubs ranging from community chess clubs to tournaments of something called _Magic:The Gathering_.

 _“Hobbies are a waste of time.”_ Lillian’s words bubble up from her subconscious, and Lena smacks them down just as fast. Taking a very purposeful moment, she course-corrects thoughts closer to her own. _Must be nice to have time to indulge in hobbies_.

With another long sip of her drink, she runs a finger down more lists. Part of her has the urge to dig through her purse and find a pen, to circle or dog-ear a few interesting ones- if only for Kara. Lena can picture her friend’s delight, face lighting up at discovering a new place, savoring something tasty, happily bopping easily between conversations with those around her. Lena wants that.She always has but it wasn’t until Kara arrived on scene that she bothered to entertain the idea she could have it.

She thinks of the whiteboard in her lab, of goals and ideas and friends, and yeah there’s reasons to push herself she supposes. Something to work towards though the fact that she's still a walking transdermal energy sucker is a problem.

Her elbow length gloves are still properly in place, but Lena adjust them anyway. It’s become a nervous habit, but a good one. She _should_ be constantly vigilant, should be reminded of the danger she poses. Looking around the cafe, concern leeches in further. These people have any idea how much danger they’re in just by her being here. She really shouldn’t be here.

Lena looks at her watch, another reminder. Her mandated lunch break is almost through, and she wonders where the rest of these people need to be. _The ones dressed casually- do they not have work? What kind of excellent job frees up their afternoons? What their lives like? How do they manage? What drives them?_

Lena rolls her eyes, stopping the train of thought before it drives her to that philosophy woman’s house. This time she agrees with Lillian’s words that echo back, _“Other people’s lives are none of your concern, Lena.”_

 _Right_.

She’s been tempting fate being around this many people anyway. Downing the last of her coffee, she stands to leave. On a whim shoves the copy of the _Phoenix_ into her bag. Maybe Kara will want to look at it. She can check out that Kitten Cafe with Winn.

Her mood feels sufficiently sour by the time she returns. She likens the feeling to a child visiting a candy store but leaving empty handed (not that she’d ever been allowed such an outing). Only she could get an extra hour for lunch, and manage to return worse than when she left. Heading down to the lab, a place usually guaranteed to lift her mood- or at least imune a sense of accomplishment- isn’t an option either. Last minute additions to her schedule promise to hold her hostage for the reminder of the day, but perhaps it's all for the best. Considering her evening plans, not allowing for an opportunity to be lulled into a comfortable space could be an advantage. Discomfort, annoyance, frustration- they can be grounding. Puzzles to be solved keeps focus tight, senses vigilant.

A memory of Lillian calling her soft, poking at her middle to double up on the insult, sneaks into her consciousness and she finds herself automatically straightening her posture. _Good_ . As much as she hates to validate the woman, she wasn’t wrong in this respect. _No one has ever taken charge from a slumped position._

And Lena would very much like to feel in charge tonight.

That sentiment still holds strong when red boots touchdown on the balcony hours later. This time, Lena’s fully prepared, chair turned and attended towards the door. She’s ready.

The Super approaches the glass, but stops just shy of it. “Agent Danvers said you wanted to talk?”

“The door is open, you know,” Lena drawls, standing and making her way over until she’s just on the other side.

Supergirl opens it but doesn’t move through. “May I come in?”

The gesture is purposeful, and she’s both cheered and irked because of it. “Please,” Lena answers, turning to make her way over to her couch. She sits, crossing one leg over the other with measured movement, and sips at her water.

Supergirl follows but settles onto the far end of the couch, her primary colored uniform in loud contrast to the stark white furniture. The alien says nothing, waits politely for her, and something about that bothers Lena too. A nagging cognitive dissonance. She shoves it to the side. _There is work to do_.

“I’ve started getting symptomatic again,” Lean begins evenly. A business deal, that’s all this is afterall. “And it’s been about a week anyway. I thought perhaps we should meet to work out the details of this arrangement and start…” she’s plucks for a word, “Treatment.”

Lena situates herself, moulds her body into a posture becoming for the strictest of negotiations. For the times where she comes to the table knowing exactly what she’ll be leaving with, even if the other side doesn’t. “I have a few thoughts, but I’m open to feedback if you have thought as how best to proceed.”

The Super stands suddenly, but what Lena assumes is a power move falls oddly flat. Instead of the stereotypical (and powerful) akimbo stance, the alien looks slightly awkward, hands hanging limply by her sides.

“I’ve given this a lot of thought as well, actually,” the Super starts, shifting her weight a bit. “About what you said before, about not wanting to be the villain.”

There’s an almost nervous energy behind the words. It’s a far cry from interactions they’ve had had before, but oddly familiar somehow. Lena stands as well, meeting her on a similar level, though for the first time, she’s not sure exactly what game they’re playing.

“I think we should do those tests. On me,” the Super continues, words a bit more pressured than before. “Gather all the information and do this right. Figure out exactly how long is necessary for contact for proportionate recharging results, what the effects- long or short term- might be. Just figure out what necessary to make this, uh, sustainable. Until you find cure at least.”

 _This_ is unexpected. A little bit of hope slides into her chest at the offer. The consideration and vulnerability it takes for Supergirl to… which leads to another realization. One that quashes the hope fairly well. “I don’t think we can do that.”

“Why not?”

“Have you considered how a Luthor taking data on a super might _look_?”

“To who? The DEO?”

“Try _everyone_ ,” Lena bites, because _really_? How does she still not get that?

“You’re not your brother, or your mother, Lena,” and Supergirl sounds almost as tired, exasperated, as she. Though, of course, far less sarcastic. “And if testing will help you, that’s all that matters. YOU are all that matters, anyway.”

It’s baffling even now to hear the hero frame things like this, to continue to put Lena’s health on this pedestal.

She looks away, moves towards her desk just to have something to do with her body. Lena knows by now it’s a Kryptonian thing, the way she and her cousin value human like, throwing themselves fully in defense. It never ceases to amaze her, to inspire her. (To humble her.)

“Okay,” she says. Refocus. “Let’s head to the lab then.”

 _It’s odd_ , she thinks as they ride the elevator down to sub-level 2. For the second time in as many days, she’s letting a visitor into her personal lab. She wonders if that’s a good or bad sign.

Scanning them in, Lena catches sight of the whiteboard. Her ‘Lena Equation’ list still stands. She moves to it erasing as nonchalantly as possible, but catches Supergirl regarding it before she does.

Luckily the Super’s attention moves on, surveying the room with a slight squint that Lena can only assume denotes a use of that famous x-ray vision.

“No, need,” Lena comments dryly, moving on to get out the necessary testing equipment. “This is my personal lab. I keep all my pending WMDs in plain sight.”

“Force of habit,” the Super replies, shrug so genuine Lena’s inclined to believe it almost.

Equipment set out, Lena ties the band around her arm and preps a needle. “I’ll go first,” she says. “Pre and post feed data for both of us, right?”

“Do you need a hand?”

She wants to ask exactly what the alien's experience is related to drawing blood, but if there’s an answer, she’s not sure she really wants to know. “Thank you, but no need. I’ve gotten quite good at this recently.”

Lena slowly draws up the blood, the sting of the needle now familiar but the pain always fresh. She bats away the idea of just implanting something for easier access, a shunt or something, not willing to submit to her disease’s permanency just yet.

When she looks up, Supergirl is staring, expression hard to read. “Something the matter?”

“No, it’s just… humans are so fragile, and so tough at the same time. I’m always amazed.” She pauses, looking straight at Lena. “By some more than others.”

Lena can feel heat rise to her cheeks, less at the side-handed compliment, and more at the intensity of the Super’s stare. She disposes of her used needle, taking the opportunity with back turned to try and settle the odd butterflies in her stomach.

 _Focus_. She grabs the new kit. “Alright, your turn then and-” realization dawns. “This isn’t going to puncture you skin is it?”

“No, that’s why I brought these.”

Supergirl places the package on the table between them, and Lena is afraid to even voice her assumption as to what the green tipped needles are made out of.

“Kryptonite tipped,” she says, saving them Lena the awkwardness. “I took some from the DEO this morning.”

“You really have been thinking about this,”

“Ever since our last meeting. Yes.”

“Well, let’s get to it then.”

Lena prepares, rolling the knowledge of Supergirl’s consideration of the matter, over and over again in her mind. _She planned this, thought ahead. Because of what Lena said to her last time._ If it’s a strategic move of some kind, the softened attitude, the attention to detail, the build up of rapport, Lena begrudgingly can admit it’s working. It’s hard to resist falling for respect and care, no matter how many times it’s been pulled out from underneath her. She clings to it like a lifevest whenever it’s offered. 

Supergirl hops up on the middle lab table, ridiculous red boots swinging a bit, and shucks up the sleeve of her uniform. She doesn’t seem to share Lena’s inner turmoil turning her arm over, bearing the smooth expanse of skin, an invitation.

 _Making herself vulnerable_. The idea rattles that something already loose in the back of Lena’s mind. She palpates for pulse, rubber-gloved fingers finding the right spot, exactly where hers is.

“You’ll feel a little pinch,” Lena says, mostly to distract herself as she moves the needle into position. “Maybe.”

Hands shake just slightly, but only until there’s contact with skin. After, it’s just muscle memory, though she can’t help but make a little surprised murmur as she draws up the blood.

“Something wrong?”

Lena looks up, “No. Sorry. I guess I just wasn’t expecting… Actually, I don’t know.” She shakes her head at the thought. Removing the needle, she puts a little bandaid on the spot, and files the vial behind her.

“Kzald’s have green blood.”

Lena turns, finds the hero pointing to her bandaid covered spot. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” Supergirl continues, though a bit less sure. “I thought you might have been surprised mine was… anyway, it’s Kzald’s that bleed green.”

“Good to know.”

It’s slightly awkward, made more so that there’s nothing left to do but what they came here for in the first place. For the first time this evening, Lena’s confidence waivers.

“So...”

“So.”

Lena leans against the counter, crosses her arms, because she needs to do something with her hands besides wringe them. “I’m not sure how long contact was last time, so perhaps let’s start with just a few seconds?”

“Sounds good. Last time was,” the hero searches for a word, swinging legs pausing as she does. “Intense.”

Lena has so many questions about what exactly _intense_ means for someone almost invulnerable. It’s almost exciting to think that their relationship appears headed towards a place where she might feel comfortable asking them. After though, perhaps. They still need to move through this part. She sets the lab timer for 8 seconds.

Supergirl slides off the counter where she’s been sitting moving forward a pace until she’s standing in front of Lena.

Lena slides off her right glove. Hand bared, she absently slides the pad of her thumb across the others, unsure what to do with it next.

“Ready when you are,” Supergirl says evenly, quietly, like she’s afraid Lena will spook. She just might too and she wonders if the Super can hear how hard her heart is beating. This is different than the times before. This is voluntary, this is elective. On both their parts.

It’s also science and that’s where Lena finally settles herself, what gets her to move, hit the timer, reach out, and make contact with the hero’s offered hand.

The surge of energy is like before, but this time Lena is ready enough to be able to parse the sensations as well. She feels illuminated from the inside out, energy coursing through her, traveling from point of contact at her hand and spreading like sunlight through her veins. At that same point of contact, she can also feel the Super’s skin, the actual sensation, texture, soft but almost hot to the touch. Before Lena can blink, the timer goes off, and she pulls back her hand.

Both of them gasp, Supergirl takes a sharp shuddering inhalation, like coming up for air, but seems fine otherwise. Lena snaps on a latex glove, hands still shaking (though now more akin to an adrenaline rush) and quickly takes another blood sample from each of them for comparison.

She places Supergirl’s vial down next to the first, gently, like the gift it is, and when she turns back, she finds the hero rolling her sleeve back down, taking long slow drags of air through her nose. “You alright?”

The hero nods. “Still intense but much less rough than last time.” She chuckles. “Last time you threw me across the room.”

Lena blushes. “Yes. Sorry about that.”

Supergirl’s face shifts a bit, amused to intrigued. “You take on my powers temporarily. When you feed.”

“One of the side effects it seems,” Lena says slowly, unsure how the Super feels about it.. “It wears off quite quickly though… and now I’m thinking we should probably keep track of that data too.”

There’s is _so much_ work. So many things to test now that she can. Endless procedures, variables, and datum to investigate swims in her mind and she almost loses herself to it until Supergirl clears her throat. “So, I guess I’ll leave you to it?”

“Oh. Yes.” Lena says. “I’ll walk you out.”

The elevator ride up is quiet, but different than the first. A weighty something that arrived with them seems to have dissipated, though Lena is hesitant to put her finger on it, to jinx it.

Back in her office, they make their way outside.

Before moving to National City, a walkout balcony on a building this tall seemed ridiculous. Besides the abject fear of being in the open air 40 stories up, it seemed mch too Ruler-Surveying-their-Empire for her to cotton to it. Now though, it’s taken on a new purpose and meaning. It’s become a place of hello’s and goodbyes with an alient that visits her. All those nights she’d look up at the sky as a child, wonder what was up there, never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined something like this for herself.

It’s a place of transition but it’s also steadily becoming a place for moments like this. Those somewhere-in-betweens shared with the woman from another world. that she’s growing more and more fond of.

A crisp breeze cuts across the night air. Lena keeps it at her back, which means Supergirl catches the brunt of it head on. It causes the blonde’s hair to flutter, the cape to billow just slightly in the wind, and Lena can’t help but feel like the woman just stepped right out of a comic book. Out of mythos. _Otherworldly_.

“I’m so sorry- I didn’t ask even ask. Are you feeling better now?”

“Oh.” Lena snaps back to Earth at the woman’s question. “ Yes, I... Thank you.” Then she remembers her manners. “For everything.”

Supergirl shrugs slightly, remonincet of something or someone Lena still can’t place. “It’s what I do.”

“No,” Lena shakes her head. “I mean it may be but… just really thank you.”

Lena bites her lip. She’s gotten a taste of speaking her feelings lately. It’s still terrifying but so far it’s also been rewarding, and there’s more to say to the hero in front of her tonight.

“I never wanted to die you know.” Lena says, pausing to check for reaction. The super stands across from her, cape fluttering behind, attentive and waiting. “I just, I’ve worked my whole life to help and not hurt. I’d end it before I did that.”

“I understand that now,” Supergirl nods, her smile pinched, and a bit sad. “I didn’t even think of before. I didn’t think of much of anything other than how I needed to save you actually, and I am so, so sorry for that.”

The words offer a release Lena wasn’t even fully aware she needed. A pressure in her chest deflates a bit, feeling that’s been constricted for weeks comes rushing back once again. It’s a strange relief to relinquish that bit of numbness.

“You’re not a villain, Lena. Never will be,” Supergirl continues. Then, with a grin, “And I would know, I’ve fought a lot of them.” 

Lena can’t help the laugh that escapes at that. “Yes, I suppose you have.”

“So see you in a week?”

“Yes,” though another thought enters her mind. “What if I need you before then? Should I just call Agent Danvers?”

“Oh,” the hero’s brow furrows slightly. “Just call me.” Reminiscent of that first night in the alley, the alien takes out a cellphone from somewhere within her cape. “Here, just put your number in.”

Lena takes the phone and does so, with the butterflies completely inconsistent with the moment. Then again, she’s never claimed to be immune. She’s putting her phone number in a Superhero’s phone, she can be a little excited.

Finished, the hero takes it back and presses call, hanging up when it starts to ring. “There, now you have it.”

“Now I have it,” Lena echoes, still trying to catch up to the strangeness of the moment.

“Don’t hesitate to call. If you need anything,” Supergirl says, walking backwards to the railing. She stops though, turns back quickly and for a moment looks like she has more to say. Whatever it is must be dismissed through because she blinks slowly and settles for a simple, “Goodnight, Lena.”

“Goodnight, Supergirl.”

With a bend of the knees, the hero rockets off into the sky. The little blast of air puffs Lena in the face, making her blink. It’s enough to break the spell and she heads back inside.

On her desk, Lena’s phone boasts one missed call. She adds the new number to her contact list, pausing momentarily to decide how to label it.

Tonight went well. She’s feeling good, not just because she’s back to 100% health, but because she’s feeling… hopeful. It makes her think of the last line of Casablanca, or some movie like that. Something in tones of grey, but smooth and enduring.

She shakes her head at her own sentimentality, but this time doesn’t attempt to reign it in. It feels good. Instead of preemptively cutting it off after the pain of loss, she should keep it going. Let herself build up, fortify

_Hope is like the sun, if you only believe in it when you see it, you’ll never make it through the night._

A quote from an entirely different movie, but the sentiment fits. Lena looks down at her phone, dawning a cheeky-smirk when she types in her new contact’s name. Tossing the phone in her purse, she makes her way home once more, lighter than she’s allowed herself to be in a while.

  


*_*_*

They can’t be together. That’s just a fact. A fact that Lena’s sat on for far too long.

Ever since Kara revealed her sort-of-maybe feelings, those words have been souring on her tongue. She has yet to spit them out. Now, she’s standing outside Kara’s apartment, ready to meet for lunch and have this big talk, presumably about their relationship moving forward… which could be avoided if Lena had just said what needs saying.

Being what Kara has always been a pipedream, but is literally impossible thanks to this Ixodis. Kara is warm and loving, and touch is one of if not the main way she shares that. If they were together, they could never touch. Kara could die, if they did.

She knows what she needs to do, but right now even knocking on Kara’s door feels difficult to manage. Luckily (sort of) Kara somehow anticipates her arrival and opens the door unprompted.

“Are you okay?” The words leap from Lena’s mouth out of sheer shock because Kara looks _terrible_.

The normal glow to her skin is dimmed, like a flickering light bulb. Her eyes are red, glassy, and the dark circles underneath make her look almost haunted. Kara’s face tells the story of someone who feels tortured and the meager smile hung there drops off all together when she finally responds. “Yeah. Didn’t get any sleep really.”

“Why?” Lena enters, shucking off her blazer.

“Kinda just… thinking,” Kara shrugs, movement minute under weight of things. “About this conversation.”

It’s not what she wants to hear at all, immediately compounding teh guilt already swirling. A hissed _Look what you did,_ clearly in Lillian’s voice, shouts from her subconscious but Lena swallows it down. The gulp feels so comically loud, she swears Kara can hear it. “I’m so sorry. Do you want to eat first or should we just-”

“-I want to talk. I- I need to get this out,” Kara crosses her arms, as if physically trying to hold herself together. “Can you just, uh, maybe sit…” she gestures to the couch.

Lena nods, moving there almost on autopilot. Things are happening too fast. They’re hurling towards collision like a train without breaks and Lena needs to do something or they’re going to crash.

“I need to tell you something.” Kara blurts, interrupting the words about to burble from Lena. “I’ve been avoiding it because… it’s going to change things. I don’t want to lose you but after this I would totally understand if I did. I need say it anyway though because I can’t have you in my life, in any capacity, if I keep it in a moment longer.” Kara takes a deep breath. “Lena... I’m-”

“-STOP!!!”

It’s just shy of a scream and Kara jumps back at it. Lena takes a deep and shuddering breath, recovering from the one she’d been holding. Now, softer, “I- I, just stop. Whatever you’re going to say, please, let me go first.”

Lena places her hands on her knees, sitting up straighter- through the lumpy couch cushions make it tricky. She can feel her heart beating in her ears and is so very thankful that Kara is still standing there quiet, probably shocked into compliance, because Lena knows if she doesn’t say this now, she likely won’t.

“I love you Kara,” she begins. “More than I thought I even had the capacity to. And I want the very best for you… which is why we can’t be together.”

Lena takes a little huff of breath, tries to hold back what’s welling up, and continues. “I told you before that love can’t be piecemeal. Part of the way you love is physical, which is amazing but not something I can offer. Even before Ixodis, that’s not something I was really...” _Good at? Accustomed to? Used to and hence starved for?_ Lena sighs, waves it away with a hand and refocuses. “The point is I could kill you with just a touch and you need someone you can have fully. You need someone to cuddle and hold, to caress and kiss, and I am not that person. You should have it all because you deserve it all.”

“I don’t, I really don’t,” Kara shakes her head, eyes watery and down turned. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

“No,” Lena shakes her head, a flare of self-directed anger sparking at the pain she’s clearly caused. “No, this is all my fault. I kept my feelings to myself because I didn’t want to change us and that secret-keeping almost did.”

She pauses, licks her lips, nervous. “I… I told Supergirl my biggest fear was becoming the villian and if I keep you for myself, keep this fantasy of mine alive, that’s exactly who I’ll be.” She tilts her chin up, a swell of defiance growing. “I refuse to stand in the way of you being with someone who you can have it all with. So... yes. I just needed you to know that before we go any further.”

Lena’s still new to the whole verbalizing-all- your-deepest-feelings-and-fears thing, but she’s pretty it’s supposed to garners some sort of reaction. Something. Anything at all. Yet Kara just stands in front of her, stock still, eyes wide, and totally silent. It goes on long enough that Lena actually turns and checks behind her, wondering if there be actually something there freezing her in place.

 _Oh lord, I broke her._ “Kara?” she tries, tone a balancing act between gentle coxing and deep concern. “Say something.”

“Lena…”

It’s a croak, like she’s choking almost, and Lena stands, moving forward to assist. Kara holds up her hands though, as if to say ‘keep back’, and it’s Lena’s turn to freeze in her tracks.

She watches Kara take another long breath through her nose, dabbing angrily at her still down-turned eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.

“This is it,” Kara mutters, shaking her head and hands coming to rest on her hips. It’s somewhere between defeated and defiant, the emotional quartering off uncomfortable to watch.

“Okay, now I’m getting worried,” Lena steps forward, not about to take no for an answer. “Whatever this is,” Lena implores. “Please, just tell me. Talk to me.”

Kara raises her head in response, eyes meeting properly for the first time since Lena arrived.

“Kara?”

“Lena. I’m Supergirl.”

  


*_*_*_*_*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DUN! :) Well, I promised Kara would tell her! More on the way (especially now that my schedule is getting significantly freed up.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A ENORMOUS thanks to my buddy and ever-patient beta, NataliaWhite92. I re-wrote this chapter from scratch at least 11 times, and she was there every step reading, re-reading, and cheering me on. THANKS DUDE! And as always, thank you to every one else who's read, kudo'd, and commented. That biz keeps me going and makes my day.
> 
> Hope you all like it. Enjoy!

*_*_*_*_*

  
  


“Lena. I’m Supergirl.”

A nervous laugh burbles out, strangled halfway by utter confusion at the lack of amusement on Kara’s face. 

_ Oh god, It’s not a joke. _

_ Kara. Kara is Supergirl _ . 

Lena’s mind fizzles slowly, sputters, nearly stalling out. 

“Lena...” Kara says, calling attention back. Shaking hands don’t even reach the top most button of her blouse before Lena gasps in understanding. Clues, pieces of years of interaction, suddenly click into place like a math equation finally solved. Kara continues on, fumbling through unbuttoning the shirt anyway, finishing the proof. 

_ Kara is Supergirl.  _

Her head is spinning,  _ spinning.  _ She just spent the five minutes professing her undying love and star-crossed incompatibility based on the idea that she couldn’t touch the one person in the world it turns out she can _. _

_ Kara is Supergirl. _

_ The whole time.  _

_ Oh god.  _

_ This whole time? _

_ Fucking-  _

_ The WHOLE TIME? _

She cycles through shock, embarrassment, and hurt like a malfunctioning jukebox. Only when she rakes hands down her face, does she even notice that the pained, low whining noise is coming from her. 

“I should have told you before.”

The waiver in her friend’s voice drags Lena’s hands away. In front of her, Kara somehow looks as Lena feels, like she’s being torn at the seams, ready to come undone. 

“I wanted to tell you,” Kara continues, and it almost sounds like a plea. “A  _ million  _ times.” 

“Then why didn’t you?” Lena’s surprised by the evenness of her own words. Hell, she’s impressed she’s able to articulate anything at all at this point.

“I was afraid I’d lose you. And I’m- I’m still afraid.”

There’s a question there somewhere, but Lena can only nod, as if it might be humanly possible for her to understand any of this.

_ Humanly possible, no. Not humanly, because Kara isn’t human.  _

_ ‘Flew here on a bus.’  _

_ The alien detector. _

_ ‘I was having lunch with Supergirl and-’ _

Upheaval. The intricately organized filing system in Lena’s head is in total disaray. Snippets of conversations, flashes of smiles, touches, frowns, every little box has overturned. What she’s known lays in a pile, unsorted and uncontained. 

“I know you thought I wanted to talk about how I felt tonight,” Kara continues. “And I do, but I had to tell you first, because if there’s ever going to be a  _ chance  _ \- if I - I mean if you-” she shakes her head like trying to force a reset. “I still want to tell you. But I’m not sure I should, if it would even be fair with all of this. To overwhelm you with… with the level of, uh…”

Lena’s swallows roughly, heart in her throat as Kara continues to fumble for words. 

With a heavy snuff, like a bull trying to hold back a charge, Kara sighs. “I… just know.. I care about you. So  _ much _ ,” she looks down, voice breaking on the last word. “Lena, I- “ She takes a reluctant step forward. 

It’s the insignia, that scarlet letter finally bared, that makes her flinch. Kara, begging, the suit peaking through ( _ All this time- all this time!)  _ the incongruence is too much, too unsettling, and Lena involuntarily backs up a pace. 

She watches her friend’s expression falls even further at the movement, hands itching to reach out dropping limply to her sides. _Kara_ ’s _hands. Kara’s_ _face_. _Kara is Supergirl._

Kara looks defeated, broken, but the instinct to embrace clashes with the image before her. That damn suit wards her off. This is Kara in sheep’s clothing, or a stranger with her friend’s face. Still, Lena wants wrap around in and around, to feel safe in the arms of the one person she thought she could but she can’t seem to. She wants to hug Kara, and at the same time doesn’t and that’s enough to make her sick to her stomach.

“I’m going to need a bit of time.” Words are even, measured. Manners take over, she’s on autopilot, lessons drummed in by rote carrying her through. _ Stand up straight. Make eye contact. Excuse yourself politely. Don’t scream like your entire reality has irrecoverably shifted. _

“Yes. Of course, yeah, yes,” Kara says, nodding like a bobble head. She wipes at her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve and stands a bit straighter, though it’s clearly taking all she has to even stay upright. “Whatever you need. I… just let me know. What you need.”

The feeling swells again and this time Lena pushes through the dissonance closing the distance between them. Arms circle, bodies press but it doesn’t satisfy fully. It’s a hug that feels like a handshake, that normally comforting familiarity tainted with an awkwardness that had no place between them. The mismatch churns her stomach further and she ends the embrace prematurely because of it. 

“I’ll call you later,” because whatever the hell else is happening, as much as she needs to escape right at this moment, Lena knows she won't’ be able to stay away for long. 

Kara apparently needed to know that too, her small “Okay.” is breathed out more than spoken and Lena really should leave now, before they both crumble. 

She chooses to take the stairs when she goes, with the goal to keep moving. By the time she reaches the ground floor, she feels she’s regained control of some executive functioning- though the moment she steps outside she’s lost once again.

It’s mid-afternoon and something about that is disorienting. All around her people continue going about their business, buying, selling, laughing, chatting, as if the world hasn’t been completely tipped on its axis. As if Kara just hasn't revealed she’s a super powered alien and (if Lena is reading it right) might also possibly have some level of reciprocal feelings towards her. It’s like a Twilight Zone episode where she’s the only one aware that there’s an apocalypse in effect and right now, she needs to find a safe harbor to plot out her next move. 

She taps out a quick message to Jess- cancel the rest of her day- and starts walking. Setting a rhythm, she lets it hypnotize and send her away for the moment. Thoughts arise and she bats them away, favoriting the sound of her heels on the cement, rather than clicking off of things she should have known but does not feel ready to broach. 

She has no particular destination in mind, but is entirely unsurprised when she finds herself at the park. The red and white umbrella sits as she left it, as is its owner. Banati stands behind the sizzling griddle, face lighting up upon recognition of her.

As she gets closer though, something shifts, dims. Lena pushes forth the best smile she can muster, but judging by his reaction, she must miss the mark entirely. Normal grin settles into a line of concern and before she can say anything at all, he’s switching off his grill and flipping the cart’s sign to ‘Closed’. 

She’s ready to protest whatever it is he’s going to offer but the compassion in his eyes stops her dead in her tracks.

“Oh, Ms. Lena,” he tutts and that’s all it takes to break the last of her resolve. The vendor leads her by gloved hands not letting go even as they settle down onto the hard wooden bench. She’s glad for his solid grip, it grounds her, and it’s only then she lets herself let go more fully. Releases that pressure, the overwhelmed chaos of feelings.

It’s a controlled descent to be sure. Eyes screwed shut, a lone tear escapes, as she successfully subdues the sob that threaten to rise. It’s not much but it’s enough release to take the edge off for now. Enough to keep the dam from breaking entirely. 

Only when Lena opens her eyes once more, does Banati lets go of her hands. He releases slowly, if to give Lena room to begin to find her balance on her own. It brings images from TV and movies, loving parents teaching their children to ride bicycles and idly wonders if Banti has children. If that look of love, of gentle compassion, comes from years of experience. 

“So,” he says, offering her some napkins for her undoubtedly runny face. “Let’s start at the beginning.” 

His gentle smile radiates safety, and she takes a long slow breath in and out before she begins. “It’s my friend. The one I’d mentioned before.” She wants to wave a hand, to dismiss the weight, but something in the other man allows her to stay with it, encourages the push to the next words. “The one I love.”

He nods with solemn openness, eyes hardly leaving hers. “Tell me about her.” 

“Oh,” Lena says, softly, caught off guard. “Kara is... Wonderful.” It’s the word that comes to mind immediately and is almost scary how easy it rolls off her tongue, how solidly it still sits in the air between them, considering the the current events. 

“Mmm, yet she has caused you pain.”

“She wasn’t who she said she was.” Lena pushes it out a bit too fast, a weird attempt to outrun the lingering sentiment, because she  _ is  _ hurt. And confused. And about twenty other emotions too. “There are some very important things she didn’t tell me. Hid from me.”

“Ah,” Banati says, nodding sagely. “That does happen.”

Lena huffs. She uncrosses her arms, aware that it makes her look defensive, though she’s not sure what of.“You’d think I’d be used to it by now.” 

Banati ignores the comment, instead settling back in the bench to mirror Lena’s posture. “A question,” he poses, raising his pointer finger as if to count it off. “And one for your heart, not your head.”

His soft smirk relaxes Lena a bit. She shifts her body a bit more towards him, ready. “Yes?”

“Knowing these things, does this change how you feel about her?”

“No.” 

Lena blinks, unsure she even said it. The word hurtled from her mouth faster than she could stop it. Though now, out in the open for her assessment, and she can’t deny the truth behind it. When she thinks of Kara, it is still in the frame of overwhelming love. Despite the hurt, the surprise, the betrayal, at the end of the day this she’s talking about Kara.  _ Her  _ Kara. 

It’s more than a bit concerning. 

“I don’t know if it should. Change how I feel,” she continues, clearing her throat, trying to dislodge of the hint of embarrassment there. Shame. “Does that make me a fool? I mean, of course I’m… upset, but it doesn’t…  _ should _ it?... ” She shakes her head, which only reminds her of Kara. Casting a hand out, as if flicking off the thought, she returns to the issue as best she can. “To be perfectly honest I have no idea how I should feel or do.” 

Banati gives a heavy sigh, mouth pulling a tight line. “ _ ‘Should’ _ is a very poisonous word,” he says, tone weighty. “It grows from guilt, from judgement. It thrives on the idea that there is a right and wrong. A life ruled by ‘should’ is not your own.”

It resonates, vibrating straight through her and rattling something she didn’t even know was loose. One example after another- of decisions based on ‘shoulds’- crash land in her consciousness. 

It’s not that she hadn’t already known but phrased this way reveals a whole new level of saturation. It’s more than the obvious childhood urge to meet to expectations, it’s also the later pushing against them as well. Whether she was trying to be what they wanted, or desperately the opposite, it’s still the same variable, based on others. 

“Sad.” She spits, like the ideas have soured on her tongue. “I… I don’t want that.” 

“What do you want?”

Banati’s words halt the progress of her thoughts (a trajectory that most certainly was set for re-evaluating every decision she’s made by this new standard). Before she can even begin to attend to the new question, she hears it. A few dull taps on the leaves just above her. Then a few more. A fat drop hits her nose and another on the back of her neck. She and Banati look up in unison just as the sky opens on them. 

Rain pours down in unrelenting sheets, drenching, and shocking. It runs down her face and beads over eyelashes so she’s nearly blind as they make the short dash to safety. The food cart umbrella, mostly ornamental, sags under the deluge and she has to step nearly into the elderly man’s arms to be covered.

Soaked, a little shiver runs through her, causing her friend to spring into action. “Where are my manners? Here, let me,” he says, with the urgency of a worried parent. 

He starts to take off his coat, moves to wrap it around her. Seeing his thin arms exposed to the elements, she remembers with sick clarity the danger she’s putting him in. 

“No, no, it’s fine-” She quickly steps away, back out into the rain. “I should get moving anyway!”

“Some place dry, I hope!” he shouts, tinges of concern still present over the din of the storm.

“Yes! I promise!” She starts walking backwards, hesitant to leave the little bubble of comfort they’d had (even before the rain). “And thank you! For everything!”

That brings back the grin, he gives his customary small bow, and Lena finds herself returning it. Wet hair slops into her face as she does and she nearly loses her balance. Stumbling slightly, she catches herself, a laugh bubbling up. 

She is standing in a downpour, soaked to the bone and laughing with her friend. For the second time today, something resonates. She likes this, this moment, there’s something odd and lovely in a pure way. It reminds her of Kara. She starts walking and it takes a second to put her finger on the emotion before she realizes it’s  _ joy _ .

Joy one of the things that enamored Lena to begin with- that pure, unadulterated joy, you have by being fully present in the moment. That Kara, someone with such sorrow, could find and manage to live in those moments… it’s one of the things that make her so wonderful.

But how to reconcile that with all the rest, she wonders. 

Thoughts ebb and drift back to the undertow of feelings that swirl around her friend, but instead of letting them drag her down (she’s still not ready) Lena decides to buoy herself up. There’s a puddle a stride ahead, and instead of navigating around she gives a little two-footed hop, making sure to land solidly in the middle, maximizing the splash. 

_ Joy _ . She lets out a little ‘Ooh!’ as the mud licks up her leg but can’t deny it was fun. She must look a mad woman, and maybe she is- all these odd highs and lows and things still stirring inside. 

With a little sigh, and looks up, lets the rain hit her face before running a gloved hand over it.  _ Enough dilly-dallying _ . It’s time to deal with this. 

Making a quick turn, she takes the next street over. This time she walks with a mission and a destination, and that’s enough to keep her sailing through. Shoes squish and bite at her feet but the new splashy rhythm keeps her afloat. LCorp Security looks horrified when the recognize her as the latest drowned rat taking shelter in their large lobby. Politely declining their assistance, she takes the elevator down rather than up, mind solely on the extra clothes in her lab’s locker. 

The reflection staring back at her from the buffed steel doors gives more understanding to her staff’s reactions. Hair hangs heavy and slicked against her in odd angles, makeup running, and she’s suddenly quite thankful for the thick blazer because her shirt underneath is nearly translucent. 

Instead of dismay, of thoughts of shame, she smirks. She’s tempted to run a hand over her hair, see if she can make a funny style but the doors  _ ding  _ open, urging her to move on. 

In her private bathroom she disrobes. Peeling off each item one by one, they hit the tile floor with a satisfying slap of wetness. The elbow length black gloves are last. Realizing she doesn’t have a spare set, she loops them over the shower bar. 

She’s wears them nearly constantly and it feels as if she’s shed her second skin. In a good but disorienting way. It as though she’s sloughed off something dead and useless, a sickness, even if the skin she’s left with is the real danger. Hanging at eye level now, they feel almost ominous, as if reaching for her. Ridiculous of course, though when she paces back, it feels better all the same. 

Looking at the discarded clothes- her suit, the gloves, the impractical shoes- she wonders if perhaps this is what it’s like to have a secret identity. To be able to shed your skin, your identity, to take off a piece of yourself each night and become someone else. 

She wonders if this is how it is for Kara. Wonders if more than clothes were shed in each transition, if dynamics between them were as well. She was different with Lena depending on her costume. Lena wonders which, if either, is real. 

With a deep sigh, Lena moves on with her own costume change. Being a pillar of practicality, having a spare set of lab casuals is a given. She has a separate set of backup business attire in her office upstairs as well, but with no intentions of going back to work today (at least the front-facing aspect of it) the idea of squeezing herself back into that mode seems pointless.

The bag is as she left it, a small canvas duffle in her locker, though as she unpacks there’s one item missing: pants. Luckily, there’s a spare set of coveralls hanging on the wall, so after dawning the undergarments, shirt, and sweatshirt, she slips into the work jumpsuit, completing the look. 

If her work attire is armor, something that weighs heavy and clunky with purpose, this is outfit second skin. Plopping down in her lab chair, she feels like she might be suited properly to handle the situation at hand. 

_ Kara is Supergirl. _

Lena groans to the empty lab, slips a little further down in her seat. It is so, so obvious now. She wonders how the hell she missed it. 

No. She knows how she missed it. 

It’s unclear which emotion tips the scale (maybe all of them?) but the noise she lets out starts at her toes and rumbles up through her like a volcanic explosion. It’s a guttural, sustained sort of Charlie Brown  _ ‘Aaugh! _ ’ and doesn’t even touch the surface of what’s inside. 

What even  _ is  _ inside? Not that it matters of course. At the end of the day, truth is truth. Kara is Supergirl. She’s going to have to deal with it either way. 

Lena pictures Kara’s face, perfect mouth forming around those words, that declaration. She tries to picture Kara in the suit, or the alien as Kara, and that fizzling in her brain starts up again. She gets it of course, why Kara kept her secret, and at the same time what the fuck? If Kara does have feelings for her (which Lena is trying very, very hard not get her hopes up about) it would probably be essential for Lena to know. Then again, why make romantic feelings be the benchmark. Being best friends ought to be enough.  _ They... are they best friends, right?  _

Lena shakes that one off. She stretches out her legs, rolls her neck a bit and tries to refocus. At this point, it’s hard to tell where the line between reasonable or unreasonable doubting should be drawn. Until today, worrying about the friendship between herself and Kara would have seemed absurd, but Kara is Supergirl and they have not always seen eye-to-eye. The fact is, regardless or reason or motive, Kara played two sides with her. Even if both sides had essentially the same message.

“You made me feel like a fool.”

She whispers it to an empty lab, feeling ridiculous because Kara isn’t present to hear it. Then, realization hits that Kara maybe  _ could  _ hear her if she wanted to. Kara could hear it with her goddamn Yellow Sun-powered SUPER HEARING. Because Kara is Supergirl. 

_ Kara is Supergirl _ . That’s the other strange side to this- she’s excited. Lena has a thousand questions about all things Kryptonian and there’s a small but undeniable thrill that maybe some of those questions might be answered. Like just how far away  _ can _ Kara hear? When they say ‘faster than a speeding bullet’ how much faster? Also, about Krypton, about the worlds beyond theirs, about the technology, the culture. Lena wants to know… to know about  _ Kara _ , she realizes. The real Kara. The one from another world.

_ Kara who lost her world.  _

_ Kara who turned Lena’s on its head.  _

The clock on the wall ticks, calling attention to the seconds that pass, each bringing more questions than answers. It’s absurd. She’s been at this for less than fifteen minutes and the Endless Decision Tree of Anxiety and Doubt has already flowered and doubled in size. She doesn’t really want to see how far it can grow either. 

Fishing out her phone from the coveralls’, she scrolls until she finds the newer contact, the one she put in her phone only days before. The moniker Lena assigned the superhero has an extra weightly level of irony now and her thumb hovers over the dialogue box, wondering if she’s ready for this. It’s only been a few hours, her head is still a mess… then again, she’s not sure if there could she ever be ready so maybe sooner is better. 

_ [Lena: Feel free to decline, but was wondering if maybe you’d like to chat. I know I said I’d need some time but-] _

Lena pauses her typing, holstering the  _ ‘but I don’t want to lose you either’ _ that sits at the forefront of her mind. As much as that’s true, she has other things that need saying as well. There is hurt, and confusion too. Not to mention all those doubts that need answering to. 

The sentence hangs, half typed and returning she fills in the blank as neutrally as possible. 

[Lena: Feel free to decline, but was wondering if maybe you’d like to chat. I know I said I’d need some time but I’ve learned that time isn’t something to take for granted.][5:34 pm]

Barely a minute goes by before the bubbles pop. 

_ [“Hope”: i’d love to talk, yes! when?][5:35 pm] _

Lena bites her lip. [Lena: Are you free now?][5:35 pm]

_ [“Hope”: give me 10 minutes][5:36 pm] _

Lena stares at it for a full beat before it sinks in she needs to move if she’s going to make it up to her office in that time. 

She’s through her gauntlet of biometric locks and in the rising elevator elevator before she realizing she’s still dressed like a wayward mechanic. Maybe not having her usual armor is better though. Without it she is just Lena, and stripping away facades is apropos to the meeting topic in general.

Entering her office it feels odd though being in her office dressed so informally. Like the Just Lena she’s brought doesn’t belong here. Before she can delve too far in, the  _ thump  _ from her balcony announces her guest’s arrival. 

Slipping outside, Supe-  _ Kara-  _ stares at her outfit, runs her eyes from top to bottom. Lena’s almost feeling self conscious until she recognizes the heat behind it, and then maybe flushes a bit at the attention. 

Lena can’t help but stare as well, though for a very different reason. She didn’t think to wonder which persona would turn up and part of her is relieved to see the bold blue and red ensemble. It’s probably for the best. The loud primary colors demand attention, keep her focused and present (and just a bit divorced from feelings she has for the person she’s known as Kara Danvers). 

Notice the returned attention, Kara shifts her attention back north to Lena’s face. shifts “Is this not okay?” she gestures to her suit. “You texted my work phone so I thought maybe you wanted… that maybe this would be easier?” 

_ Work phone _ . And just like that Lena sobers, remembers the hurt and frustration. She resists the uncomfortable laughter threatening to burble up out of sheer helplessness. “Easier,” she repeats.

Supergirl winces and the expression is  _ so Kara _ but it’s on the wrong face. Or body. Wrong persona. It just feels so wrong. 

“It’s a terrible disguise you know.” It slips out and her tone is total petulant child. Not exactly what she wanted her first post-reveal words to be. She uncrosses her arms to try and assuage how it comes off. 

“What do you mean?”

“The ponytail and glasses. You look exactly the same. Have you thought about all the face-recognition software out there? All it takes is one moron with an half a brain to figure that out. You’re taking a terrible risk.”

“Well, it’s worked pretty well so far,” she huffs, hands on hips. “I mean you’re the smartest person I know and-” Kara’s eyes go wide, words cutting off in sudden awareness.

“Yes, well…” Lena swallows, smoothing her hands over the front of her coveralls. “Point well made.” 

Lena tucks her hands into her pockets, then takes them back out again. Behind them the sun is setting slowly. The warm glow it casts contrasts the cold blanket of silence building slowly around them.

“I’m not exactly sure what to do.”

It rolls off her tongue fast, faster than she’s prepared for, but maybe that’s a good thing. There’s never going to be a ready after all, not for this. “Am I supposed to hate you? Not trust you?” Lena continues, slipping one hand into the other holding on as best she can. “Am I supposed to be understanding of your point of view, accept that it was a necessary evil, for you to lead me on, to make me feel like a fool?”

Kara’s face-  _ Kara’s-  _ twists.“No! Of course not.” 

“Well that’s what I feel like you know. A fool.” There’s a little sting behind her eyes, threatening to well up. “I was fooled. I  _ let  _ myself be fooled. I was so blinded by...I didn’t see it.”

She digs her nails into her palm, an attempt to keep things flattened just a bit to where she can still handle them. It doesn’t work though, that feeling of free-fall gripping once more. Suddenly she’s too out in the open, too exposed. Taking a few steps towards the balcony railing, she braces a hand there, less support more grounding. Looking out over the city, she searches for what she really means to say. 

“There’s nothing to be done now of course. I’m glad I know, glad you told me. I’m just…” Lena finds the word easily but it takes all she can muster to be honest, to grind out. “Sad. I’m sad.” 

She feels more than see’s Kara, arrive at her side. She wills herself not to turn and look, knowing she’s not going to be able to get this out if she does. 

“I thought I had one person,” Lena says, addressing the city, the world beyond. “Just  _ one _ , who was what they claimed to be. Who actually cared about me.”

“Lena, I  _ do  _ care about you,” and now Lena turns, and yes the way Kara’s looking at her cuts right down to her soul. 

“I want to believe that. I mean, I  _ feel  _ that,” Lena corects. “But I don’t even know who you are though do I? You’ve split yourself between entirely different personas. Which is real? Who are you really?”

“They’re both real,” Kara says, but stops. “Actually, no. I mean, they  _ are  _ but…” One hand on her hip, the other rubs the back of her neck, awkward, as she sorts her words. “If I’m honest neither is  _ totally  _ me. Can’t be. Not at the same time. And I… hate that.” 

Arms cross self-consciously over that familiar ‘S’ as she continues. “Even the people who know both sides always seem to expect me to, I don’t know. Just expect things. Like one part of me is worth more than the other.“ 

Lena has to resist the urge to reach out and comfort because Kara looks lost. Eyes glassy, Lena watches as she moves on. “There are moments though, where I can just be me. Moments where I feel comfortable, where nothing is expected. And most of them have been when I’m with you.” 

Kata shuffles, red boot on the scuffed cement. “It’s not an excuse but.... I liked how you were with me because of that. That you liked me despite not knowing, well, this,” she flaps part of her cape, and shrugs a deep sigh. “You thought Kara was enough, even without the powers.” 

“Kara Danvers is more than… than just good enough.” Lena means to say _ than you’ll ever be _ , the instinct to defend her friend ironically out of touch with this new reality. 

The quickness and bite of her response throws them both off. Surprise looks strange on Supergirl’s face and for the hundredth time tonight Lena feels like it’s a glitch in the matrix, trying to combine the two personas; the alien she’s come to reluctant understanding with and woman she’s trusted more than anyone she’s ever met. 

_ God, she misses Kara.  _ The idea is insane considering the circumstances but she wants just her, unadulterated by all this obfuscation. She misses that veil of blissful of ignorance and suddenly wishes she could recognize her cardigan-wearing friend in front of her enough to ask for a much needed hug she probably shouldn’t even want. 

“It just so hard to see you in there,” Lena breathes, words slipping out before she can stop them.

“In this suit?” 

“Yes. And no. I just… ” And Lena looks, really  _ looks  _ at her now. 

There are pieces of both personas in front of her, little merges where the lines between strong divisions are blurring just a tad.

Supergirl always stood taller, or broader. She shows her strength in stoic presence, and poise (a strategy Lena often utilizes herself). Maybe it’s the suit, or some chemical process metabolizing the yellow sun, but she does seem to faintly glow almost.

Lena steps just a bit closer and other details, similarities, come into place. The little scar on her forehead is present still. Pupils aren’t quite the same size, a cartoony aspect Lena has always found endearing in Kara. And the way she looks at Lena,  _ that  _ remains. That look as if Lena were something fantastical, something otherworldly and wonderous, strong but delicate. 

_ ‘Humans are so fragile. And so tough at the same time. I’m always amazed’ _ . Kara told Lena that in the lab, just the other day, leveling that same look adding,  _ ‘Some more than others’.  _ For the first time, Lena wonders what looks Kara’s been seeing reflected back.

They’re now close enough that she doesn’t need to extend much when her gloved hand reaches up, almost on its own accord. Lena squints, feels almost like an archaeologist at a lost site- there’s an urge to uncover, to reveal.

She starts by gathering curtains of blond hair to the side, to the back. There’s a familiar jaw, hard chin, the features are right but something’s still missing (and she absolutely sure it’s not about the glasses). 

Lena examines lower. These are the broad shoulders, the strong arms of a hero. They’re also the ones who have held Lena close, gently, which takes strength that has nothing to do with the sun, yellow or otherwise. The shape is the same, trappings different. Lena can see that, it’s coming back into focus but something remains. Some piece of Kara just isn’t present and it takes another full and critical scan for her to finally put her finger on it. 

Quite literally too. With a quick movement Lena gives Kara’s nose little  _ boop _ . It’s just a little tap to the end, but it succeeds in eliciting a surprised look followed by the barest hint of a smile. The smile that has felt like a gift from that first day. The smile painted behind Lena’s eyelids whenever she closes them. 

_ Joy _ .

And suddenly, as much as she was missing, her friend is back. Suit and all. 

“Oh.” Her own voice catches soft between reverence and surprise. “ _ There _ you are.” 

Kara nods, eyes brimming and bright, smile cracking a bit further. 

It doesn’t hold though. Before Lena can follow her whims, ask Kara to please wrap her up in her arms, the moment fades. Wind whips past them, the heavy red mantled cape flaps loudly, breaking the spell. Lena blinks, steps back, and tries not to react when Kara very clearly starts to reach out for her to stay, hand dropping awkwardly between them mid-reach once again. 

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next.” Lena says quickly, searching for emotional footing once more. “What I,” she catches herself, drops the ‘should’ continues, “What I’m going to do next. I need Supergirl to live and I need Kara-” shakes her head takes a slow deep breath. “I need you to be  _ you _ . Genuinely. If we go any further, whatever happens, I need you to be both. Together. All the time.” 

“That… I want that too.” Kara swallows. “I want to.”

“Okay then,” Lena nods, meeting adjourned and hopes that Kara can accept that, can understand because Lena’s out of words at this point.

“Okay.” She pauses to go, but stops. Instead, she steps forward, just shy of Lena once more, and sticks out her hand. 

Lena looks down at it, than back up, question written all over her face. 

“You wanted to know who I am. What both is,” Kara says slowly. “Kara Zor El,” she extends her hand, voice waivering a bit, she clears her throat. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Zor El,” Lena rolls the name over her tongue and, if she’s not mistaken, it brings a little flush to her friend’s cheeks. “Lena Luthor.”

Gloved and uniformed hand shake, and it’s a strange feeling. Like fresh deja vu. 

“Nice to meet you, Lena.”

Lena laughs, it’s such a dorky thing to say, so perfectly Kara, and that missing something feels slotted into place. “Nice to meet you too,” Lena replies, smiling despite herself.

Kara steps back then, a little shuffle, before reaching the edge of the balcony. 

“Well I uh, look forward to our next meeting.”

“As do I.”

She bends her knees slowly, enough time to give Lena fair warning and to see the smile stretched full bear across her face, before rocketing into the sky. 

The now familiar puff of air kisses Lena’s face right after, but it’s not until Lena steps back inside her office that the spell is truly broken. 

She sits on the couch and reviews the transcript of the conversation. After a gentle combing over she finds nothing rings untrue. Lena made no promises of a return to trust, and received no assurance either. There were no expectations other than truth moving forward, which is both freeing, terrifying, and new.

They are in uncharted territory now and maybe she’s a fool to hope but for the first time Lena feels in control. She is entering into something with full understanding that of what she wants, what she’s willing to risk for it. _ Because if Kara really could… If she really is herself... _

Lena shakes her head. One thing at a time. Genuine. Real. Truth. Lena asked and needs that for anything to continue. 

Standing, she walks through her office. She stops at the door, looking back towards the balcony. “Good night… Kara Zor El.”

Joy. And Hope _. _ That’s always what Kara has brought, no matter the facade. Lena wants that, needs that. 

Switching off the light, she closes the door behind her. Enough, enough for one day. 

  
  
  
  


*_*_*_*_*


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter we had the fallout from the Big Reveal, so moving forward is about rebuilding and renovating that relationship (and yes, eventually making it into something even more) :) Enjoy!

*_*_*_*_*

_[Kara: Good Morning! ][5:02 am]_

Lena finds the text waiting for her when she gets up. Simple. Unobtrusive. Nothing out of the ordinary. It’s accompanied by a photo of the sunrise… clearly taken from a vantage point you’d need to be able to fly to get.

Less ordinary then.

It’s purposeful, Lena knows. This is what she’d asked for: for transparency, for Kara to be fully herself. Snap of her daily routine, even if it’s from 1200 ft, is very Kara.

Still, it’s a lot to absorb at 6am.

Getting up, she stretches and opts to move through a bit of her routine before answering. In the shower she lets the hot water stream over her head. _It’s a good thing, this identity reveal,_ she tells herself. It feels like a final step somehow, a clearing out, or maybe more of a synthesizing and knitting together of things fractured this whole time. So much has transpired between her and Kara and she’d like to think that if they can stay honest moving forward they could be better than ever. Closer than ever.

Stepping out, she catches her reflection in the half-fogged mirror and frowns. She runs a hand across her bare shoulder, collarbones, and watches that hand settle over pale stretches of skin. It serves as a reminder that no matter how they come together, as long as she’s afflicted with this Ixodis there will always be a barrier between them.

_Back to the lab tonight then_ , she thinks, though with the barest uptick in optimism, more than she’s felt in a while. _Only one hurdle left._

Returning to her room, she takes up her phone and tends to the earlier message.

_[Lena: You’re giving ‘rising with the sun’ a new meaning it seems]_ she types back, taking a moment to really her courage before adding, _[Lunch later?][6:08 am]_

_[Kara: YES!!! Noon at Abandanzio’s???][6:09 am]_

The reply is almost instantaneous and Lena can’t help but feel the little flutter in her chest, at that. Kara so emphatically wanting to see her, to spend time with her, still knocks her for a loop. There’s still so much to sieve through but it’s hard to deny certain truths of her own feelings.

Rather than worry of it, she lets herself bask a bit. Sending off a confirmation she receives a long string of emoji in return, and doesn’t resist the grin as she makes her way to the wardrobe to dress for the day.

Standing in front of the closet, her first thought is to make sure to wear something that will hide lunch time’s inevitable marinara sauce indiscretions, but then another idea strikes her. This will be her and Kara’s first time hanging out as two people whose feelings for one another have been (mostly) acknowledged. This isn't’ just lunch with Kara the Friend , or Kara the Unrequited Crush. This is lunch with Kara Whom There’s Real Possibility Of Something With. (Maybe.)

_Also Kara With the Secret Identity. Kara, Betrayer of Trust…_

Lena shakes her head, dusting off those nagging voices of doubt. It doesn’t matter. Well, it _matters_ , but right now she needs to focus on dressing herself. She sighs, hands on her hips as she stares blankly at the clothing.

One step at at time. Clothes first. Interpersonal Relations issues can wait until after coffee.

The rest of the morning slides by uneventfully. Jess hands Lena her agenda (and Lena’s second coffee) to her, on the way into the office.

“You have Japan on the phone at 4pm- the earliest they could do,” she starts. “Oh and A David Xu called? Said not to forget your date tomorrow night?”

Jess’ tone is anything but neutral, the incredulity and judging disappointment readily apparent (She always had a soft spot for Kara).

“Not that kind of date,” Lena is quick to clear up, though not sure why she needs to justify herself to her secretary. “Once a year he comes to town to do the annual conference and we talk business over cocktails.” She leaves out the part where it inevitably devolves to banter, bitching about colleagues, and drinking until someone throws up or taps out. There’s a phantom pang in her liver at the thought of going drink for drink with him. The man had the constitution of a cement mixer.

“I can cancel if you want?”

“No, no. I have to meet to negotiate use of LCorp equipment for the seismological research he’s doing,” she sighs. “You can call him back to confirm.” She pauses. “And maybe make sure no meetings until 10am the next day.”

“Of course. Anything else Ms. Luthor?”

“Not at this time. Thank you Jess.” Jess nods, giving Lena a final suspect look before seeing herself out.

The door snicks closed behind her and Lena’s left with the silence. Opening her laptop, gloved fingers create muffled pitter-patter as she types, pulling up her to-do items. There’s several emails and call that need to be made, some that she’d really, really rather not deal with at the moment. The ever-growing stack of things requiring her signature sitting at the corner of her desk is looking more and more like the plan. Something she only needs to be half present for. There’s enough on her mind as is, considering her noontime plans.

Glancing at the clock, it’s barely eight. She gives in to a cartoonishly large sigh, and takes the first stack of papers from the pile, setting them in front of her. Lunch, even with all its potential (both good and bad) cannot come soon enough.

  


*_*_*

  


Kara is 45 minutes late.

It’s well out of the range of her usual tardiness and Lena isn’t sure what's more immediately concerning: that something may be wrong or that she’s been stood up.

Obviously the idea of something happening to Kara has always been a fear. Part of her has to laugh at that now, as apparently she’s been worried about someone who is literally bulletproof-

_Oh god._

“Excuse me,” Lena waves her hand, flagging the attention of the apron-clad worker near the cash register. “Can you change that to the news. Just for a second?” Her friend may be bulletproof, but invincible? Not so much.

Pizza man frowns, but begrudgingly produces a remote from beneath the cheap Formica countertop. With a click, soccer disappears and the news is on, showing Lena exactly what she dreaded.

The camera work is shaky, probably something amateur from a bystander, but it’s capturing the live feed of everything Lena didn’t want to see. Supergirl and what looks like a fifteen foot tall Swamp Thing are slugging it out in the shallows of National City Bay.

_Kara._ She corrects herself. _Kara_ _is fighting a monster in the bay_ , Lena thinks and has to lean on the greasy checkered table to brace herself to keep watching.

On screen, the monster bats Supergirl so hard she goes skimming across the water. Lena looks on in horror as Kara stands on wobbly feet just long enough to receive the brunt of another tentacle attack slapping her below the surface.

She doesn’t come back up.

Lunch is entirely forgotten as Lena makes a break for the door. Her destination is still to be determined, but it’s going to be someplace with tech vicious enough it’ll shred that beast into seaweed salad.

She’s almost out the door when a cheer from the TV catches her attention. The tables have turned, somehow, in the time it took Lena to grab her things and begin her exit. Supergirl now stands above the unconscious monster with what looks like a mast to a shipwrecked boat in her hands.

Lena takes steps towards the TV, examining the screen for any sign Kara’s injured. On screen, Supergirl appears to be breathing hard, but seems unscathed, as a fleet of black-clad DEO agent boats descend in the background taking the alien into custody.

Kara glances at the camera for just a moment to give a weary thumbs up to viewers, before shooting into the sky. Lena is still staring the TV, dumbstruck by relief and still riding the wave of panic-adrenaline, when bell on the restaurant’s door chimes a moment later.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!”

Lena turns to find Kara standing there, a look of crushing remorse painted over her face. The news anchor says something about Supergirl and Kara’s eyes dart to the TV screen on the wall, then back to Lena “Were you watching the whole time?”

“No, I just caught the end.” Lena blinks a few times, as if to clear the disconnect. It’s surreal, to see Supergirl fighting a Swamp Thing one minute and then Kara in front of her the next. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, heh yeah I’m fine.” Water drips from still-damp hair, creating dark spots on her lavender button up. “Lunch?”

Lena looks to the previously abandoned pizza and salad. Kara’s light up as she follows it, plops heavily into the booth to tuck in.

By some automatic pilot Lena follows suit, sitting herself across. Still in a daze, she watches as a few stray beads of water drip down Kara’s nose. Without a second thought, Lena grabs some napkins from the dispenser and moves to wipe them away. She stops mid way, realizing the assumed intimacy, and holds the napkins out as an offering, instead.

“Oh, ha, thanks,” Kara says. Taking off her glasses, she wipes her face. Tossing them aside she snags a slice of now cold pizza on the table, wincing at the reach.

The intake of breath is like a slap back to reality, Lena’s higher order thinking finally catching back up with her. “You’re hurt.”

"I’m _fine_. This is exactly where I need to be.”

“I beg to differ,” Lena says, tone riding worried line between concern and frustration. “Why didn’t you just go straight to the DEO?”

“And miss your date? No way,” Kara scoffs.

Lena’s heart snags in her chest at the word and it must register on her face because Kara backpedals quickly. “I mean, you know pizza lunch dates are my favorite. And with you, even better!”

“Kara. I-”

The sharp trill of the cellphone’s alert interrupts whatever Lena had brewing. Kara gives an exasperated sigh as she digs it out of her purse. “It’s Alex,” she frowns, reading the message. “She wants me back at med-bay for a look over and debrief.”

“Good.” Lena says, relief returning once again (along with a tinge of disappointment). “Glad at least one Danvers sister is reasonable.”

Kara looks beyond frustrated.

“They’re will be other lunches,” Lena cajoles. “But you need to be in one piece to enjoy them.”

“True,” Kara smirks. “And speaking of piece…” she snags another slice, muffling the wince much more effectively this time. “For the road.”

“Get out of here Supergirl,” Lena smirks, waving a hand dismissing.

“Fine, but rain check on Lunch, for real. Anytime. Just let me know,” Heading towards the door, she giving Lena one last look before stepping outside and into the wild blue once more.

  


*_*_*

  
The rest of the day passes quickly enough and Lena’s first thought when she heads down the lab that evening is how on Earth she’s going to manage to make herself eat pizza twice in one day.

Her second thought is _Wait, why are there two pizzas in my lab?_

It takes a long moment before she remembers that she had asked Jess a week ago to pick some up. For her first science-buddy evening with Alex.

_Crap_.

She’s barely completed the circuit of thought, when the elevator opens. Alex looks sheepish as she makes her way through the locks, a six pack of beer in each hand. Her expression changes to slight relief when she spots the pizza boxes though. “Came prepared I see,” she nods at the food in question. “I wasn’t sure you’d still want to meet.”

“Well, honestly, I’d totally forgotten. You can thank my assistant Jess for the food.”

“Oh,” Alex says, pausing mid-step. “Do you... want me to go then?”

It’s hard to parse exactly. It’s like seven emotions have layered into one moment, stacked on top of one another, then pressed down into one compacted, dense feeling.

No, she most definitely does not want Alex to leave. Having someone she’s grown to care about, who seems to care about her, walk away- crushing. Yet the deep-seeded embarrassment and shame at not seeing the obvious truth makes it hard to even look at her right now.

She’s taken took long to respond and Alex is looking worried now, which only makes the swirl in Lena’s chest more intense.

“Are you okay?”

Lena manages to shake her head before plopping heavily down in her chair, collapsing really. She bends forward, burying her face in her hands and muffling the embarrassed groan crawling up her throat. “You must think I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.” Alex sighs, and Lena dares to drag her hands away just enough to meet her friend’s eyes. She watches as Alex sets the 6-packs down, plucking a bottle for each of them, and joins Lena the chair next to her. “Clearly,” she adds, nodding to the mess of equations on the board in front of them. “I think you might just be _really_ good at compartmentalizing stuff.”

“I think,” she goes on, cracking open a beer and handing it to Lena. “That maybe you needed Kara to just be Kara, without all that other stuff.”

“Maybe,” and some of that intensity deflates out of her. Alex is still here, she hasn’t left her. There’s something to be said for the logic in what she’s saying too. She’s wondered since Kara’s ‘reveal’ if maybe part of her knew all along. Deep down. Subconsciously. Denial is a rather powerful thing, after all.

Taking a sip from the offered beer, she brings it back down to cradle between both hands. “Those glasses really are a terrible disguise.”

“Pfft, seriously right?” Alex chuckles. “Told her that for years.”

Lena’s answering snort buoys her up them a moment before settling once more, something weighty still on her tongue. She levels her gaze at the whiteboard, eyes fixed forward, before starting in.

“I saw her today. Fighting that monster.” Lena’s body tenses with anxious energy at the thought. “She was late to lunch and I turned on the tv and there she was. In the bay…”

“Yeah.”

Lena doesn’t need to turn to the woman on her right to understand Alex gets it. With that one word Lena can hear the fear, the same fear she had looking at that TV.

“Does it… does it ever get easier?” Lena asks. “Seeing her like that. Risking her life, getting hurt.”

“No,” Alex says quickly, adding, “But I’d never get in the way or stop her.”

Lena looks now, sees her friend still staring ahead, staring straight through to another space and time. “I’ve seen her when she wasn’t allowed to be that hero. I kept her from it for years and I… I can’t see her like that again.”

She finally turns her head, catching Lena’s eyes. “It’s who she is. I’d never ask her to change.”

There’s a warning, and understanding needed. Whatever friendship or mutual respect may have been nurturing, is set on pause; this is now Alex is the protective older sister, drawing a line in the sand.

“Yes. I know.” Lena says, hoping her conviction shines through.

It must, because Alex gives a short nod. “Good.” Appeased it seems, she turns back towards the whiteboard. “So,” she says, gesturing to the equations ahead with the beer in hand. “What did you have in mind with this mess? Because I have a few thoughts...”

Lena feels something lighten inside, like she’s passed some sort of test. It’s good, _they’re_ good, and she can barely squash the little smirk blooming on her lips. “Well,” she starts, making herself a bit more comfortable in her chair finally. “Fire away.”

  


*_*_*_*_*


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Here's some more! Don't get any unrealistic expectations of updating frequency though, I'm still as slow as ever. This is more of a second-half-that-didn't-quite-fit for the last chapter :) Enjoy!

*_*_*_*_*

Kara doesn’t wait for Lena to cash in her rain check, arriving at LCorp at 11am on the dot with lunch the next day.

“I just couldn’t wait,” she says by way of introduction, already making her way to the couch and coffee table.

“I wished you’d called ahead. I-” Lena stops mid sentence, bothered by her own words and the kernel of truth under them. Kara dropping by unexpected has always been the most unexpected joy of her day, and yet… “I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I said that.”

She does know though. Her day is packed with more meetings that she has time for and she still has that meet up with her colleague in the evening as well. She needs to marshal all her cerebral energy and patience today and while Kara’s impromptu visits are usually revitalizing, this isn’t just an any visit. As much as Lena would like it to be, it isn’t. In fact, she’s not even a little sure how this will go, and that’s stressful enough on its own.

“Oh. Yeah, you’re right. I… should have called,” and Kara looks as though the wind’s been taken out of her sails completely. “I can just leave the food if-”

“-No!” Lena stands from her desk. It's the second time in as many days that she’s almost sent away a Danvers sister and this feels just as awful and conflicting as the last, if not more. “I’m sorry, I’m just… Please. Stay.”

Kara looks at her for an extended moment, face uncertain. “Alright.”

“Good.”

Kara continues to unload the take-out bag as Lena crosses the room. When she arrives at the couch, there’s a strange moment of uncertainty and she feels like she did in the beginning: unsure exactly how this thing is supposed to go between them. Kara plops down at the far end of the sofa, focus intent on unloading paper plates and plasticware (and intently _not_ on Lena).

“Indian food then?” Lena asks while silently berating herself for spending longer than necessary judging how close on the couch she should sit. She opts for two-thirds away.

“Yeah, thought it would good. Something warm and cozy for a rainy day.”

“Oh.” Lena looks up at the windows adjacent. “I hadn’t even realized it was raining.”

Turning back, she finds Kara caught halfway to a decision to speak, but ultimately nixing it. She’s landed on just looking kind of helplessly expectant towards Lena to carry the next part.

She’s not sure which circle of hell suddenly having to fake her way through a conversation with her best friend is but she’s arrived there. Putting on her most Pleasant Neutral(™) Smile, she grits and continues to push through. She starts adding food to her plate as she does so. “So where did you get this from?”

Kara lets out a small sigh, looking not more relieved though, and follows suit creating her plate. “From Tandoori Palace.”

“The one down the street?”

“No, the one on Hazel Ave.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Lena looks down at her plate. It’s horribly awkward, like a bad blind date. It’s ruined any appetite she could have mustered, but she takes a few tentative bites anyway so at least the sound of chewing can buffer the silence.

“This is weird.”

Lena looks up from her plate at that. “Yes. A bit.”

“I hate this,” and if it weren’t for the fork in hand, Lena’s sure Kara would have her arms crossed in a pout.

“I’m not exactly enjoying it either but it’s not like we can fast track trust.”

Something seem flicker over Kara’s face. “Maybe we can.” She deposits her plate on the coffee table and turns more fully towards Lena. “I have an idea.”

Placing food down means it must be serious. She has Lena’s attention now. “Oh?”

“Winn and I had this game when I first came to CatCo. It’s called the Question Game. Basically, you just go back and forth and whatever the other person asks you have to answer totally honestly.”

Lena raises an eyebrow, skeptical. “Sounds like a regular conversation.”

“No, no, it’s more than that,” Kara shakes her head. “Because there are times in life where you can answer without answering fully, or just sort of breeze by stuff. This is different, you _have_ to answer and be totally honest. No sugar coating for yourself or the other person, no half answers or cop outs, just dead on, honest truth.”

Before Lena can voice anything though, Kara holds an index finger up. “Wait- before you agree, a warning,” her voice is faux seriou. “Once you start playing, there’s no real official end. It’s sort of an on-and-off continuous thing.”

“So you and Winn are still playing as well then?”

“Pfff, no,” Kara waves a hand. “He had to tap out. Turns out he’s not always ready for that level of bluntness.” She shrugs, grimacing slightly. “Feelings may have gotten a little hurt.”

“The fragile male ego,” Lena hums, small smile gracing her lips.

“So…” Kara fiddles with her thumbs. “Interested?”

It’s equal parts intriguing and intimidating. The idea of being wide open to her most inner truths strikes a note of fear in her, but on the heels of dread comes a flutter of anticipation. Someone else willing to be that vulnerable, offering up any information she wished, sounds exhilarating.

“Okay,” Lena says, before she can back out. “I’m in.”

“YES! Okay, Cool. Awesome.” Kara practically fidgets with excitement. “So, uh, do you want to start or should I?”

“Oh, well, you start.”

“Okay, let’s see…” the way Kara holds her chin in her hand, brow furrowed in concentration, is adorable enough that Lena can't regret starting down this road. At least not yet. “Okay. Favorite Animal?”

Lena laughs. “Really? So much for hard-hitting journalism…”

“I didn’t say the questions had to be hard-hitting, just that the answers had to be 100% truthful. So…?” Kara smiles, cocky and silly and beyond infectious.

“Fine. _Rattus norvegicus domestica.”_

“Rattus… as in…?”

“Rats. Yes. They’re smart and gentle. I would see them in the labs at LuthorCorp all the time and play with them.” Lena bites her lip. “And I may or may not have snuck one or two out to keep as pets at some point…”

“Oh, Lena,” Kara tuts with faux concern. “That’s gross.”

“It’s not! They’re wonderful.” She crosses her arms. “What’s your favorite animal then?”

“Maybe those Newfoundland dogs. They’re big and fluffy and were bred to help fishermen bring in heavy nets, but… well...“

She rubs the back of her neck, as if debating whether or not to continue. Lena waits, gives a slight nod encouraging to go on.

Kara nods, licks her lips nervously. “There were these things I saw once. When I was little. They were like a bear meets a hawk? My parents, my real parents, took me on vacation to this forest planet. It was this lush, dense, vegetation everywhere, tall tree things, and near the lake I saw it- the bear-hawk. It was beautiful and powerful and I always wanted to go back there and see it again. I don’t even know what it’s called…”

Kara closes eyes a moment, as if trying to summon it. “Broad golden feathers. It was taking off when we spotted it. It looked so awkward on the ground but in the air?...” Kara shakes her head. “I think of it when I fly, when I fly for fun. When I soar…” She blushes a bit. “Sorry, I haven’t thought about that in a long time.”

 _This_ is Kara Zor-El. This is is who Lena wanted to meet, the Kara that she’s known but with that last little waiver that never made sense ironed out. This makes sense, _Kara_ makes sense just a little bit more, and Lena feels almost thrilled by that.

“Thank you for sharing it with me. It sounds amazing,” Lena says, and when she reaches out placing a gloved hand on Kara’s forearm, and giving a little squeeze.

She gets a small smile in reply. “Thanks.” Kara clears her throat, and Lena watches as her friend files that memory away once more. “Okay, my turn. Favorite Movie?”

“You already know my favorite movie,” Lena deadpans.

“I’m still easing you in,” she says, making a flippant motion.

“Fine. _Empire Strikes Back_. My turn?”

“Yup,” she pops the ‘p’.

“Food you won’t eat?”

“Well that’s easy- Kale.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “Of course. You’re turn.”

Kara bites the inside of her cheek, hesitant. “What’s something you wish I wouldn't do?”

It’s a purposeful opening for a sucker punch, several of which lay at the tip of her tongue, but as much as Lena appreciates the forced vulnerability she’s not about to swing at it at someone so clearly letting their guard down.

“I wish you wouldn't wear that dark maroon blouse when you visit my office. The one with the white checkered lines across it.”

It’s the first thing she can think of and does its job throwing Kara off her game. Her friend looks properly aghast “But I love that shirt! You seriously don’t like it?”

“That’s two questions,” Lena grins, lips curling around her water glass as she takes a sip. “Same question to you- something I wish you wouldn’t do?”

“Doubt yourself.”

It’s so quick, Lena’s mouth parts, in surprise. She has follow up questions, many, but swallows them with some effort. “Okay.”

“Good.” Kara nods, confidently. “Now, my turn… tell me why you don’t like that shirt.”

Lena can’t help but laugh, “You’re wasting a question on that?”

“Yes. I’d like to know.”

“Well,” Lena drawls, debating how candid she should be. “I never said I don’t like it. Quite the contrary, actually. It’s a bit too.. _distracting_.”

The inflection makes the meaning well understood, if the blush coloring her cheeks is any measure. “Really?”

“Mmhm,” Lena nods, lips curling around her glass once more. “My turn.” Lena has a question in mind, but realizes the way Kara’s looking at her now has shifted a bit. Apparently the message was definitely received because a heat sits behind her gaze, and it makes Lena squirm not so unpleasantly. This is not a road they need to be going down, and not so quickly for sure. She interrupts it, says first thing that comes to mind. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

It’s an overshoot. Kara’s face drops, lingering heat evaporating. Lena backpedals. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to-”

“-No, I- I will. I _should_ .” Kara adjusts her glasses, a nervous habit before sighing. “My answer is _I don’t know_ .” She shrugs, a small movement, voice wavering a bit. “I wanted to, for so long, but the opportunity came and went, kept coming and going and then it started to feel like it’d been too long and I just…” She tosses her hands, a helpless gesture, and they drop heavily back down in her lap, defeated. “Like I said, part of me, selfishly liked it. How it was. Liked you liking me. _Just_ me.”

“I still like you,” Lena says. Looking down, she laughs sadly. “Still _more-than-just-like_ you actually...”

“You just don't know if you can trust me,” Kara grumbles, guilt creasing her expression further downward.

“No, I just don't know who you are.” Lena counters. It doesn’t seem to make much of an impact. “Thank goodness we have this question game huh?” she tries. “A brilliant idea to get us back up to speed.”

That garners a little smile, and she keeps pushing. “Speaking of which, is it my turn or yours?”

“Mine.” Kara says, brightness returning slowly.

Lena leans back against the couch cushions, narrows her eyes, and places a playful smile delicately on her lips. “Do your worst.”

“Okay,” Kara gives a little exhale, visibly relaxing. She shakes out her hands, rolls her neck a bit, like a batter getting ready. “So,” she grins. “That maroon shirt huh?”

“Ugh!” Lean scoffs, tossing a napkin at Kara in faux exasperation. Kara laughs and tosses her own napkin back in retaliation before moving to pick up her lunch plate again. It’s easy and natural and there it is, that spark from before, that feeling of fond affection. It may not be back for good, but it’s back, which means there’s hope and Lena’s heart feels full for the first time in a while.

“Thank you by the way.” Kara says, swiping some naan to add to her plate.

Lena takes up her own food as well. “For what?”

“For giving me a chance. For letting me in.”

“I don’t know if I had much of a choice,” Lena smiles softly. “You do have super strength. And a spare key too, now that I’m thinking about it,” she jokes. “Not to mention my assistant adores you.”

“You know what I mean.”

Kara remains serious, and Lena settles herself, meeting her there. “You’re right. I do.”

“Good. So yes, thanks” Kara says, taking a satisfied chop out of her meal. “Hey, you gonna eat that last samosa?”

“No, and I’m counting that at as your question,” Lena says, before leaning over and passing the box.

“That is so not fair. I’m lodging a formal complaint.”

“Noted.”

It’s not a fix, but it’s a start, and it’s enough that Lena feels a bit more confident that letting that flicking flame of hope carry on. Enough to feels safe waiting and seeing what more is to come. It’s enough. For now.

  


*_*_*_*_*


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. This chapter exists solely because I think it’s fun. It could have been an unrelated one shot. It could’ve probably be its own fic even, but it’s not. It’s here. Like David S. Pumpkins, it’s its own thing and I’ve shoved it in here because I’m the author and I can do what I want. :) 
> 
> You can blame beta bud NataliaWhite92 for this too. A direct quote "Don't friggin' cut it! Obviously there are other important parts you need to get to but _Kondo_ Sam! Don't cut Kondo!" :) 
> 
> That being said, I’ll return more purposefully to our plot already in progress next chapter but for now here’s something goofy that I totally amused myself with.

*_*_*_*_*

As anticipated, Lena’s annual _Drinks and Business_ date with Mr. Xu went as it always does- weighed heavily on the drinks side. They do manage to part ways with a renewal of their half million dollar deal though, so despite the fact that Lena’s nearly seeing double, the evening is getting chalked up as a win.

She manages to make it back to her building by sheer will (and with an assist from an saint-like Uber driver). It takes three attempts to select the right key, but she finally gets the apartment door open… only to nearly fall inside. It may be time to re-evaluate the need to take a hard line with David (and herself) involving more moderate consumption for their next ‘meeting’.

With what feels like Herculean levels of concentration and effort, Lena makes her way to her bedroom to change. The journey is an epic one, and not without casualties (she never liked that lamp anyway,) so if she spends a little extra time thoughtfully debating pajama options, it’s at least partially in need of a moment to steady herself and get her bearings. Settling on her favorite octopus-print flannels bottoms and coziest grey sweatshirt, and by some absolute miracle realizes that water is probably a really, really good next step.

Gliding a hand along the bare hallway wall for support, she makes it back to the kitchen and hunts for the largest vessel she has. That turns out to be a 24 oz plastic souvenir cup with Minnie Mouse on it, left over from the time Kara dragged her to Disney On-Ice.

That had been a truly absurd experience. Not one, but THREE separate women had asked Lena where her child was. A brief glance at Kara, belting out ‘Part of Your World’

With the 3 year old in the seat adjacent, in between bites of cotton candy, seemed to answer that well enough. The night wasn’t without its highlights- ice meant cold, meant Lena had a totally reasonable excuse to cuddle closer than normal.

_“It’s so cold in here. Aren’t you cold?” She’d said, tucking herself under Kara’s arm._

_“Guess, I just run hot,” Kara replied._

Now, looking at the cup, Lena rolls her eyes (an immediate mistake from the way the world spins, she nearly loses her balance).

“Hmfft, runs hot, my _ass_ ,” she snorts aloud to the empty apartment. Kryptonians have an internal body temperature far greater than a human’s The whole impermeable skin thing helps as well, she supposes. What if that affects metabolic rates. She’ll have to add that into equations when she tests samples after the next feed…

Lena blinks a moment at that. Feeding, draining energy, from Supergirl was one thing but feeding from Kara...

 _No_ . She shakes her head, another rookie mistake as the world threatens to upend itself _(what is this her first time drunk?_ ). Placing a hand on the counter top to brace herself, she puts the kibosh on that or any further angsty thoughts for the night. She spots the TV across the room and yeah, that sounds like a good distraction if ever there was one.

Tottering over, she flops down on the couch and calls up the familiar Netflix icon, mindlessly selecting from her queue. Filling the silence is the new goal right now, even the Home Shopping Network would be fine at this point (though she’s always found Hummel figurines quite disturbing).

Stretching cat-like, her legs feel heavy and light at the same time. _Numb, that’s the word,_ she thinks and grabs the throw blanket off the back of the sofa to tuck herself in. It’s only then, when she feels comfortable enough to attempt to tune back into her surroundings, that she finds the TV isn’t fully making sense.

Yes, she drank her fair share this evening (sake bombs do tend to be her undoing) but it certainly wasn’t enough to have apparently lost all comprehensive ability. It takes another moment of concentration before she finally realizes the TV doesn’t make sense because the woman on screen is speaking Japanese.

“Duh,” she gently chides herself, and as she turns on the subtitles it finally connects that this is the home organizing show that Kara had recommended a while back. She must have put it on Lena’s queue for her.

 _How thoughtful of Kara. Kara... who is Supergirl. Kara who Lena was somehow too oblivious, too_ infatuated _to have noticed is Supe-_

“Oh for chrissake fuck _off,_ ” Lena growls aloud at herself, exasperated with her own brain. She needs a minute, a few of them, to herself before re-engaging her battle against mental self-flagellation.

She takes a long drink from Minnie Mouse cup for good measure, before turning up the TV. She cranks the volume until it drowns out those inner voices, until all she can hear is little 4’8” woman’s voice ricocheting off every wall, asking Lena if her surroundings ‘spark joy’.

“Hell no,” Lena laughs bitterly. Daintiness dispensed hours ago, she takes another sloppy swig from the cup, water dribbling down her chin and onto her sweatshirt. Another look around her place confirms that nope, not a single fucking thing around her sparks any joy. In fact, not a single thing is even _hers_ really. She bought her place fully furnished and kept it the way she found it: as antiseptic and impersonal as a hotel lobby.

Now, surveying her joyless apartment, she’s suddenly overcome with the urge to destroy it. Letting her head roll back against the couch loosely, a giggle erupts at the idea; the absurdity of losing control like that. Her brother wouldn’t have thought twice about it- Lex was always rather prone to histrionics (She can’t count the number of drink glasses she’d watched him smash over the years, in either celebration or upset). Lena was never afforded that luxury, of course. _Women aren’t allowed to show emotion, it’s viewed as weakness._ Another truth Lena despises Lillian was correct about.

“Which is utter bullshit,” she argues aloud to her invisible audience, because it is and she can say it. There’s no one to answer to anyone anymore (no Lionel, no Lex, no Lillian) and here, alone in her apartment, she can say or do whatever she damn well pleases. The idea warms her almost as much as the evening’s booze has.

Her wandering attention lands a painting on a wall near the window. Like everything else it’s sat untouched since the day she moved in and like everything else, she’s never liked it. It’s just three pastel, amorphous blobs on a drab grey canvas. It reminds her of the bloated, pasty faces of old white men staring back at her from boardrooms. Certainly not something she wants to deal with at home as well.

From the TV, Marie Kondo implores Lena to take stock in her surroundings, to think about priorities. Evaluating the offending wall ornament, something starts to nag at her. Like an ingrown hair or a pebble in her shoe, the paunchy-faced excuse for art irks. It irritates, causing something rising within her until suddenly she’s up, stalking towards it on wobbly legs.

Snatching it off the wall takes considerably more effort than should be necessary, and when she finally manages to get it free, she all but heaves it to the ground in frustration. The feeling blooming inside her is savage and utterly ridiculous, but suddenly destroying this hideous thing feels absolutely _essential_ , like her world hangs in the balance.

Falling to her knees on the plush carpet, she hulks over it, evaluating. Clearly it’d be useless to try and tear it; the combination of cheap, thick canvas and her _goddamn too-short nails_ would make it impossible to rip.

Her brain fumbles awkwardly for solutions. She could use the small switchblade in her nightstand maybe. Lex gave her when she first moved into her freshman dorm. “ _You know, just in case Lee.”_ Like many gifts and advice, it was half in jest: sincerity undermined with the cheeky wink.

Lena growls audibly at the memory. Lex has been haunting her all night, and she hates that it’s _his_ voice that’s loudest when she’s most alone. She hates that not here though too, that his stupid, ego-maniacal choices meant he’ll never be there for her again. Ever.

_Another person whose identity changed, right before her eyes._

Frustration sours, something heavier taking its place, and Lena sags under the weight of it. Sitting back on her heels, she takes a moment to steady before abandoning the painting on the floor and returning to the couch with a defeated _flop_.

No matter how offensive to her taste, the painting isn’t the problem- _she_ is. _Lena_ is the one who never bothered to change anything in her apartment, never felt it necessary to do so. The state of her housing has never been a priority, as it’s always been temporary. Why put work into something unless you mean for it to stay that way? It’s a viewpoint that’s sadly extended to other aspects of her life, putting self improvements, wants, and needs off for that magical day TBA where she would be ‘ready’. Settled. Safe enough to put down roots within herself.

But, if Ixodis has taught her anything it’s that keeping her life on layaway all but guarantees misery.

Switching off the TV, Lena finishes her goblet of water with a few big gulps, and a thought occurs to her: There _is_ something in the apartment that’s hers! Getting up, she shuffles to her office. Inside the closet, just as she’d left it, is the bass guitar. She’d relocated it there a few days after Kara moved out. (There were enough thoughts mocking her about missed opportunities and regrets swirling in her mind. Having such blatant totem on display, right there in her living room, felt like overkill.)

“Fuck regrets,” Lena bites, that flare of defiance swelling again. She snatches the instrument off the stand, carrying it and the small attached amp over to her desk chair. Sitting, she rests it string-side up on her lap, and takes a good look.

The design is simple enough and she had flipped through that “For Dummies” book at one point (though mostly just to appease her guilt over the mostly-jilted gift) to understand how it should work optimally. It shouldn’t prove to be too much of a challenge after some practice.

Turning on the small, she rests an edge on her leg and positions her hands according to every photo of a rock and roll musician she’d ever seen. Depressing the thickest string with her left, middle finger, she uses one on her right to pluck it.

The low tone vibrates through her, starting distally and moving right into the center of her chest. She shifts her fingers, tries another combination, and the next note does the same. It thrums right through her, clean and clear and pure. It resonates deeper than she ever imagined it would, some silly little thing but it feels good. This could be something, something just for her, something to work on and to move forward and grow with.

Bellying the excitement is an ever growing physical fatigue however, and she’s reaching that point where intoxication wanes to exhaustion. Carefully setting the instrument back on its stand, she admires it for a moment, and almost wants to laugh because of course the only thing in her apartment that meant something to her would be something Kara had given for a gift. _Hope_. Kara always gives hope.

_Kara. Kara who’s entire planet, her whole world, disappeared in an instant. Kara, who somehow made an ultimate loss her strength._

All those things lost. Instead of letting it destroy her, she builds from it. It’s no wonder it’s so hard for Kara to look back at those memories. (Lena really should talk to J’onn about acquiring one of those Bear-Hawk creatures Kara was talking about).

Still, how does someone with no past, nothing to tether or return to, still look to the future. (A small voice inside her whispers that Lena should know better than anyone, just how). A long, slow sigh follows. _Kara. Kara who is Supergirl._ The thought doesn’t fizzle or sting as much as before. Exhaustion and alcohol have softened it some perhaps. She should go to bed, attempt to sleep it off (the booze at least). A fresh start tomorrow could be good.

Lena runs a palm lightly on the top of the instrument, as if tucking it in, and makes sure to swing by the kitchen to down some aspirin before returning to the bedroom. When she hits her bed, it's with a dull _thump_ and heavy relief, fully validated in her decision to preemptively change into her pajamas hours before.

_Kara. Kara is Supergirl._

“Obviously.” Lena sighs, embarrassment long subsided into amusement. It _is_ funny in a way after all. Clumsy, sweet, innocent Kara, doubling as the Girl of Steel. Makes sense where those arms came from now- the ones always straining against the fabric of those pastel button ups, making Lena wonder what else exactly they could-

“Utterly useless,” Lena laughs at herself, rolling to her side (and hanging on tight while the world spins into adjusting to the new position). Useless. She’s so utterly, uselessly in love. With an alien no less. Lillian would be so horrified. Lena wonders the best way to break it to her. Do they even allow balloons and confetti in a supermax prison?

Things to worry about tomorrow.

 _Tomorrow_. Now that’s an idea. She’s not sure if it’s against or with her better judgement when she grabs her phone and is texting before she stops herself.

_[Lena: we should havemovie Niight at your placetoomorrow][1:54 am]_

Good. That’s good. Concise and to the point.

_[Lena: Also youare so grreat.. Just wanted t say that.][1:52 am]_

And that’s far less the the point. What’s done is done, but that’s for Tomorrow!Lena to worry about she supposed. Tossing the phone aside, she turns over, this time rolling with the spin as she buries her face in her pillow.

_Kara. Kara is Supergirl._

“Obviously,” Lena mumbles, smiling into cotton sheets as the tendrils of sleep snake around and drag her under. She drifts off after that, to a montage of red, blue, and blonde, to smiles and glasses, as shifting personas, split and fusing once more, following her into the pleasant darkness.

  


*_*_*_*_*


	17. Chapter 17

*_*_*_*_*

It’s not that Lena  _ decides  _ to be strategic about their movie night choices, it’s more that she’s strategic about  _ every  _ choice in her life- which just happens to include tonight. It’s a force of habit really, planning fifteen moves ahead (eighteen if sufficiently caffeinated), and one that at times she wishes she didn’t have. 

For example, she can see what’s coming down the line when it comes to her and Kara. They aren’t just rebuilding, they’re  _ renovating _ , each step deciding how their relationship will be moving forward. That includes deciding how… intimate it will be. The problem is that Lena still hasn’t found a cure and Ixodis still means touching comes with a price- hurting Kara. A price Lena’s absolutely not willing to pay. 

While Lena’s had decades to acclimatize to a lack of touch,  it would be unfair to tether Kara (someone who’s intimacy is so very entangled in the physical- hugs, cuddles, etc.) to a relationship where they may never be able to be together fully. Looking ahead, she pictures Kara wilting, like a plant without enough sun, stuck with someone who can’t even hold her hand, can’t touch at all. 

The problem is, she has no idea what to do exactly. She needs time to stop and sort it out but things just keep rolling forward, pressing them together before she can figure out  _ how _ . 

So she picked a boring movie, made sure to place the gigantic bowl of popcorn as a buffer between them, and wore her most unbecoming outfit of oversized sweatpants and sweatshirt combo. And while her mind and body hums at the proximity to Kara as it usually does, Lena schools her face, cools her interactions, and makes sure to suck sensuality from the room as best she can. She needs to slow them down, way down, so she can try and read the field and figure out what’s next.

Some things are hard to account for though, planning wise. A major flaw in thinking so many steps ahead is losing focus on what's right in front of you. For example, Lena’s shimmying down various decision trees in her mind, not paying attention to what she’s doing in the present, and thus is caught completely unprepared when Kara’s hand meets her gloved one as they both reach into popcorn bowl at the same time. 

Like an idiot, and absolute _idiot_ , Lena looks up. It’s like a scenario straight out of every teen romance scene Lena’s never watched: Kara, all soft eyes and a mischievous smile, looking at her with a mix of hope and something Lena really, really shouldn’t ponder. Which of course, she does and suddenly her idiot brain launches in whole new fantasy of what she’d like to happen next. Wandering hands skimming, discovering, skin tingling, wanting,and how good Kara would be above her, below her, inside-

Lena shivers and unfortunately, Kara notices. “Are you cold?” She lifts a side of her blanket in offering. “Here, scoot in.”

It’s not a weird thing to say, or  _ wasn’t,  _ rather. Movie nights like this regularly entailed cuddling together. That was one of the main reasons Lena liked them so much actually, but that was before. Before various reveals (feelings and otherwise), before Ixodis, just  _ before _ . 

Her pause must be too long because Kara’s face falls into a frown. “What’s wrong?”

Denying would be easy, but if they stand any chance for anything between them, she needs to be honest. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for us to be close like that.” 

“Why? You’re all wrapped up, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

She bites her lip, “I just don’t think it’s wise.”

“Okay...” Kara says slowly, . “I just kinda miss... I mean, I kinda thought maybe now that we both know I won’t die if we do accidentally touch… now that certain things are out in the open...?”

“There are a lot of things out in the open now,” Lena deadpans. Even without x-ray vision she can still picture that ‘S’ through Kara’s clothing. 

“Right, yeah, of course,” Kara says, disappointment barely masked behind her eyes. “I mean, yeah, we’re still rebuilding things.”

The way Kara wilts hits her right in the chest. “Exactly, and I just want to make sure we’re making them… sustainable. That what we’re building makes sense for us in the long run.”

“If it’s about both of us, shouldn’t I have some say too?”

“You’ve been making decisions about what’s best for us for quite a while now, I’d say it’s my turn.”

Lena winces at the snap of her words tumbling out, even before Kara’s look of hurt registers. It was a reflex, a low blow, and not the way Lena wants to play. “Sorry- that was uncalled for. I just meant,” she looks at the ceiling, as if the answer might be there. “I meant let’s go  _ slow _ . Slow to make sure we get it right.”

Mouth pulled into a tight line, Kara nods. “Okay.” She tucks her blanket back around herself, and looks to Lena once more. “I want it to be perfect too, I guess I’m just feeling a bit impatient.” She smiles sheepishly, eyes flicking down then up Lena’s form “I mean, can you blame me?” 

Cheeks heat under the action and Lena clears her throat, returning her attention to the screen. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

Moments pass, gentle lapse into silence almost a relief… until Kara breaks it. 

“Hey, Question?”

It takes Lena a second to realize this is Kara, initiating their game from the other day.  The one where the answers are the absolute truth. Coming off the last subject, her stomach twists a bit. Bracing, she turns attention back to Kara. “Yes?”

“Do you like this movie?”

Lena’s laugh is more of a bark and mostly from pure relief “What?”

“I mean, seriously, do you like this movie?” Kara points at the screen. “Because it’s ridiculously boring.”

It’s a clear and purposeful attempt to lighten the mood, a peace offering, and the idea of that warms Lena from her toes to the tip of her nose with gratitude. 

“It’s supposed to be a classic” Lena says, affection seeping through faux contrariness.

“Yeah classically  _ boring _ ,” Kara slumps further in her seat, shoveling a handful of popcorn in her mouth, chewing with detached blahness. 

“This from the woman who loves a movie about a department store mannequin that comes to life.”

“Hey  _ that  _ is a classic!” Kara says. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

Lena glances at the screen where Scarlet is getting married for the second time and bites her lip. “Okay, fine,” she sighs, tossing her hands up. “It’s super boring.” 

“I knew it!” Kara whoops pointing at her. “J’accuse!”

“In my defense,” she says, crossing her arms. “I’d have thought something so highly acclaimed might be a bit more interesting.” 

“Yeah, for some reason I always thought this movie was supposed to bet this great romance instead of…” she pulls a face. “I mean, Scarlett’s kinda a jerk. Though I can relate to wanting to  _ ‘never be hungry again _ ’.” 

“Oh please, you love to eat, hungry or not.” Lena throws a pillow playfully, Kara letting it hit her in the face with an exaggerated reaction, she can’t help but smile at. “Should we watch some ‘Parks’ instead?” 

“Yes, please!”

Lena passes the remote over to Kara, who quickly calls up their go-to show before slumping back down into her previous stretched out position.

As they settle in, one of Kara’s socked feet pokes out of the end of her blanket. It’s thoughtless and easy, the way Lena covers it with her gloved hand, and she only registering the gesture when she feels Kara stiffen at the contact. 

Neither of them moves, waiting and clearly unsure. 

It’s a weird standoff, mostly between warring sides within herself, and in the end Lena leaves her hand there, giving a gentle squeeze. Kara relaxes too and they sit watching the show, Lena’s gloved hand in place, long into the night. 

At some point she must fall asleep, because when she stirs, she’s no longer on the couch. It takes her a moment to realize she’s in Kara’s arms, being carried to the bedroom as if she were weightless. There’s a moment where Lena debates pretending to be still asleep but something- intake of breath, hammering pulse- must tip Kara off.

“It’s okay,” Kara soothes, as if it were fear and not something a little more base (like the feeling of being wrapped up in super-powered arms) that has her heart racing. “You fell asleep. Just putting you back.”

“Thank you,” and that’s all Lena can really think to say. 

“Of course,” it’s whispered, as if not to disturb the silence of the room or the fragile something hanging between them. She sets Lena down onto the bed carefully, like Lena were glass, leaning over to better do so. 

Kara pauses, hovering barely a foot above. That ever present pull Lena feels is as strong as ever and it would be  _ so  _ easy, here in the quiet dark, to simply reach up and bring them together.  _ Kiss me _ , Lena would say, and for the first time since they met there’s a distinct possibility if she asked, that’s exactly what Kara would do.

They can’t though. They really can’t. 

“Thank you,” Lena repeats instead, the break in her voice not really conveying conviction in her decision unfortunately.

If Kara can sense the dissonance, she doesn’t convey it. “Of course,” she echoes. “I’ll lock up on my way out.”

“Okay.” 

Pausing at the door frame, Kara looks back. “Goodnight.”

Silhouetted there, Lena can see them both. Kara and Supergirl. Power and tenderness. Pain and strength. And love. More importantly, Lena can see someone who cares about her, and Lena is not about to lose her again. “Goodnight.”

Kara shuffles out and moments later Lena hears the deadbolt of her front door lock. It’s only then that she rolls over, face muffled in the pillow and lets out a long, sustained “ _ guhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh _ ,” of frustration. 

That dispatched, she lets herself sink more fully into the bed.  _ Yeah _ , she thinks,  _ this is going to take some figuring _ . She falls asleep to endless decision trees about her and Kara, branches and trunks extending and extending, not one ending where she’d like.

  
  


*_*_*

  
  


“Um, for your information, Wookie is a  _ highly  _ sophisticated language!” Lena roars, beer sloshing a bit with her emphatic gesture. “They’re an advanced race!”

“I was just saying Ewok-ese has a greater tonal variety!” Alex volleys back, “So sue me if I like something pleasant sounding? Also, awfully uppity to devalue the Ewok traditions and customs implying they’re not ‘advanced’,” she huffs. “I mean, they took out half the Empire’s troops with fucking, fuckin’ trees!”

Somewhere around their 4th beers, the lab meetup devolved into whatever this is, and Lena finds she doesn’t mind a bit. “Yeah and they also thought C-3PO was a god…”

“He’s been front and center for most of the pivotal moments in the war and knows 6 million forms of communication. Were they that far off really?” Alex drains the last of beer and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She points the now empty bottle at Lena, “And shiny. They liked that he was shiny.” 

“Shiny he was,” Lena nods sagely, having to put a hand out on the table to steady herself. She nearly misses having to do mad-grasp to keep upright.

“Whoa, easy there Yoda,” Alex laughs, taking two tries to place her own empty on the chair nearby. She stands, taking just a moment to steady on wobbly feet which elicits an uncharacteristic giggle from Lena. 

“ _Shh_!” Alex shushes sloppily, clearly as affected as Lena. “Oooo wait, I have an idea...”

“Oh?” Lena feels the little giggle vibrating inside her still, tries to quell it. “And that is?”

“I think it’s about time you gave me the  _ real _ tour around here.” 

“Tour?”

“Uh huh. I want the full shebang, the inside out of this place-” she gives a loose gesture to the areas beyond and around them. “I wanna see the goods- the crazy prototypes. I knoooow you’ve been holding out.” 

Lena knows she really shouldn't but Alex’s easy carefree manner is so inviting and if friends can't trust each other with highly classified and definitely illegal, experimental technologies than what’s the point? “Alright then. Follow me,” she makes her way carefully toward the door, very happy she’d changed from heels to sneakers hours earlier.

They wander around, Lena pulling things out of drawers here and there or lifting a few tarps to reveal and explain what’s underneath. It’s nice and even through the buzz Lena can reveal in the idea that she’s never really done this before. Never shown this side of herself, the ‘nerdy-inventor’ side. She babels and Alex can follow and babel back, often meeting her excitement.  _ It’s like she’s a friend _ , she thinks before remembering that yes, it’s  _ actually  _ exactly that.

They make it through the tour in one piece, the only casualty one minor wall (“ _ It’s not my fault the safety wasn’t on! _ ”) and arrive back at the lab room where started. The excitement- and probably some adrenaline from the particle weapon’s discharge- still has them both vibrating with an excitement so infectious Lena can’t help but roll with.

“This is what I really love, you know? Creating, inventing, solving problems…” she gushes. Then, looking at Alex. “Thank you. For letting me share it.” 

“Are you kidding?” Alex says, leaning up against the counter. “I love this too. And I can’t believe you’ve almost made a Lightsaber!”

“Almost  _ perfected  _ it you mean,” she can feel the sloppiness of her smile, the slur of her words fading, but bringing out her accent a bit. “Still working on the  _ wooom  _ noise.”

“All I’m saying is I better be getting one when you do. Blue is my favorite color by the way.”

“Noted.”

Alex hops up to sit on the counter. Legs dangling with a little kick, oddly similar to the way her sister did last visit. “Maybe you should, you know, spend more time here, doing what you love.”

Lena fiddles with an empty beaker on the table. “I wish I could but it’s hard when I have to be CEO-ing up there, sadly.”

“Isn’t part of being CEO doing whatever you want?”

“It should be,” she says, and immediately wonders why it isn’t. “What about you- is Directing the DEO what you want to be doing?”

“Yes and no. But I will say this is the first time in recollection I have a personal life.” Her legs stop, the weight slowing them perhaps. “I dunno, meeting Maggie, suddenly work wasn’t the most important thing. I mean, it’s still super important, it’s just now there are ...other things too, you know?”

“Yeah, I think so,” she says.  _ Or, I’d like to.  _

“Oh and  _ speaking of which _ ,” Alex crosses her arms and levels a look at Lena. “How are things with Kara?”

“Not sure what you mean,” and she really doesn’t. There are far too many dynamics at play and in flux when it comes to her and Kara to be certain in what way Alex is inquiring. Though if the segue is any indication, Lena’s not sure Alex is the one she’d want to talk about that particular dynamic with anyway. 

“You’re too smart of play dumb convincingly, you do know that, right?” Alex deadpans. “My sister’s texted you like nine times tonight and you have big goofy grin every time she does.”

“I do not,” the heat rising to her cheeks probably isn’t selling the denial. 

“Fine, whatever,” Alex rolls her eyes. Before Lena can interject, she continues on. “On the business side of things though, when was the last time you fed? I noticed your hand, a bit of tremor there.” 

Lena quickly tucks it in her pocket and internally curses herself for the knee-jerk reaction. “It’s been a bit. I’ll contact her soon,  _ doctor. _ ” 

“Good,” Alex slides off the counter and moves to grab her jacket. “I’m going to head out, catch an Uber. Maggie should be off shift any minute.” 

“Okay. See you next week?”

“Of course,” She shrugs like it’s a given. Like it’s nothing at all. “Later. It’s been real, Luthor.” 

“Likewise.” 

Alex does a little stuttered step towards Lena, arms frozen, hanging at a strange angle like a hug being held back. She ends up taking a different direction, clapping a hand on Lena’s shoulder and giving a weirdly stiff squeeze as she passes. It’s awkward and Alex looks like she wants to shluff out of her skin. “Right. Okay. See you.” 

“Bye,” Lena shoots at the blushing woman’s retreating form. Lena grins at the exchange- it’s a relief to know Lena isn’t the only one still feeling out this whole friendship thing. 

  
  


*_*_*

  
  


“What do you want?” Lena starts, then revises. “I mean from life. If you could do whatever you wanted today, what would it be?”

“This seems pretty good,” Banati shrugs, flipping the pita on the cart’s small grill.

“This?”

“I used to do accounting for law firm-  Webster, Webster & Cohen,” he says, adding toppings. “It was very stressful. My wife was a doctor, so we had plenty of income but no  _ time _ . We’d always talk about what to do, what to do after. It was always  _ ‘after’ _ .”

“ When she died, I quit my job. All those hours,” he shakes his head. “All spent on something I didn’t love, instead of someone I did.” 

“That makes perfect sense when you say it that way.”

He wraps the falafel up, handing it over.  “Spending my day in a beautiful park, cooking people food, making them smile,” he grins. “Yes, I’d choose this.” 

“Well I’m so glad you did. I’m so glad to have met you,” she can’t help but return the smile. 

The initial question had been percolating since the other day, when Alex asked her why she wasn’t down in the labs more often. The answer is simple but she still refuses to accept it. Accepting means taking responsibility, means admitting yeah part of her is still playing to the crowd, to expectations from others. Part of her is still stuck on the ‘shoulds’ but she’s not sure she’s able (ready) to pull away just yet.

She bids her farewells, warmed by the smile of yet another friend, and wanders to a bench down near the rose garden. Carefully taking off her gloves, she unwraps her falafel and digs in, glad for Banati’s culinary skills as well as his companionship. It’s as good as ever, completely messy and made to her specific (and unusual tastes).

Lena blames the euphoria from her delicious lunch for her distraction. She doesn’t notice the Great Dane until it’s nearly in her face.

It pulled the leash out of its owner’s hand, caught wind of Lena’s lunch on its gallivant through the park, and is just coming in for a closer look but the surprise and the sheer size of it makes Lena leap. She goes to push the huge dog off and only at the last minute realizes she doesn’t have her gloves on and panics- throwing her arms as far away from the animal but further pinning herself down in doing so. 

“DUKE! DUKE GET DOWN!” and suddenly the dog is removed, its owner looking mortified. “I am SO SORRY. He just got away from me and I-”

“Not a problem,” Lena says, her heart beating so hard she’s surprised she can even form words.

“He spilled your lunch, can I replace it or-”

“-No thank you. I think you’ve done enough. I’ll- I need to be going.” She is up and moving, gone even as the owner tries to call out more apologies. She jogs as fast away as her Jimmy Choos can take her, shakily pulling the long black gloves back on, like the shackles they should be. 

She makes it nearly to the other side of the park, before collapsing on the nearest bench. No longer a moving target, reality strikes hard: If she had touched that dog with her bare hands, she’d have killed it for sure. 

Nausea rises, the panic, the fear, and she feels the beginnings of an anxiety attack buzzing, building. She’s digging out her phone before she realizes it, shaky hands on autopilot when they hit the speed dial.

“Hello?”

“Oh.” It’s almost a surprise to hear Kara’s voice and suddenly her brain finally blows through the haze enough to shout all the reasons Kara is exactly who she shouldn’t be calling. “Hey.”

“Lena? What’s wrong?”

Normally it would be almost cheering, the idea that Kara could tell so much from just one word, but right now she just feels like a fool. “It’s nothing. I just panicked a second. It’s nothing.”

“What happened?”

And there’s the steel. This is Supergirl on the phone Lena remembers, sinking lower on the bench. She leans over, hand over her face, propping her up. “Really, it was nothing. There was this dog and it jumped on me, I almost touched it- with my bare hands. I was worried I’d- it’s  _ fine _ . It’s really no big-”

“Where are you?”

“The park near work, but- “

“-I’m on my way.”

Sound cuts out. Lena looks at the phone, confirming that yes, Kara’s hung up. She’s still staring at phone a second later when a sharp breeze whips by her. When Kara, hair and clothes a little rumbled, comes out from behind a tree towards her. 

“How did-” Lena stops. Remembers.  _ Faster than a speeding bullet. _

“Are you okay?” Eyes dart up and down over Lena, searching with palpable concern.

_ You really didn’t have to come _ , is what she means to say, but all that comes out is a squeaky little sob, the last of her composure crumbling.

“Oh Lena, come here,” and strong arms wrap tightly around her. Lena cracks, in the safety of her own bullet proof snuggie, sniffling and sobbing into Kara’s shirt. She lets herself hang there, safe enough to wring out the last of what transpired. Kara whispers comforting words into her hair, the sounds so warm and soothing it takes a moment to realize doesn’t understand what’s being said.

“Is that Kryptonian?” She wipes her eyes, separates them enough to see Kara’s sheepish face. 

“Something my Aunt used to say when I was upset.”

Lena wants to ask what it means, but stops herself. Kara hasn't talked much about her family- her Kryptonian one- and now doesn’t feel like the time.. “It’s beautiful,” she says instead. “And thank you by the way. Thank you for coming.” 

“Always.”

It’s their common refrain, swapped back and forth a half-dozen times over the years. It should feel worn, dull, but instead it only seems to gain luster with every use. Every time it feels more solid, more real. 

Now though it’s something even more. The look Kara’s giving her as she says it, coupled with the stated feelings behind- suddenly it’s too much to bare. It sticks inside her ribs, rising and falling with every inhale, with every beat, Lena’s not sure what would happen if she tried to pry it loose. 

“You’re still trembling.”

“What?” Lena follows Kara’s eye line to her hands, where there is indeed a clear and present tremble. She tucks them away and that’s two Danvers sisters in as many days catching her off guard. “Just adrenaline, I suppose.” 

“Do you- “ she gives a glance around them, leans in. “Do you need to  _ feed _ ?”

It’s laughable, the world’s most powerful being leaning in, being so delicate. “I can wait, really. A few more days before it’s necessary…”

“ _ Lena _ .”

It’s clear from the tone, that this is happening, so she acquiesces. “Okay, fine. Yes, I could probably use a zap,” she rolls her eyes. “Just a small one- we still have data to track.”

“Good.”

“Let me just… “ she moves to take off the elbow length gloves, but still-shaking hands make it tricky. 

“Leave it, I can just...” Kara lifts her own hand in example, before moving it cautiously, towards Lena’s cheek. It’s slow but Lena still can’t help the little flinch, less from the offer and more from the intimacy of the gesture. 

Kara retracts her hand instantly. “Sorry. I didn’t th-”

“- _ It’s fine _ ,” Lena says, stepping forward, half trying to prove it is and half just giving into the tractor beam quality Kara has. It’s a bad idea but Lena lets it happen, lets herself be drawn in by that invisible force, leaning her cheek in to meet offered hand.

She knows it’s a mistake the instant they connect because even with the shock of the energy, all Lena notices is the  _ softness.  _ The feel of Kara’s hand as it cups her face, the warmth, it’s just as devastatingly wonderful as she’d imagined. Her eyes close against her will, no more than an extended blink, but enough to take a mental snapshot, to  _ savor _ . Kara seems similarly affected, gazing at her with such unbridled affection it’s like the energy draining from her is an afterthought. 

An afterthought is the last thing Ixodis should be though. 

She moves away, breaking their connection, and Kara blinks hard, taking a short gasp of air like she really had been lost in the moment. Lena wants to ask how long Kara would have held there, how long she would have just kept waiting, and waiting- which is  _ exactly  _ what Lena was afraid of. 

“You okay?” Lena manages because if she doesn't say something, she’s afraid she might say what she’s actually thinking. 

“Never better,” Kara smiles, color already returning. “You?”

“Good.” An outright lie, and one that Kara’s slight frown indicates wasn’t a convincing one. “I should… “ she points to LCorp tower. “Lunch is almost over.” 

“Oh. Yeah. You should… go. Okay.” Kara looks like she might say something more, but in the end, just nods. “I’m going to…” she points to the thick brush behind her, perfect for disguising a take off, and the idea is so novel (Kara bursting into the sky) and Lena actually laughs. 

“Well, _ Up, Up and Away _ then right?” 

“Right.” Kara smiles, concern still lingering in her eyes. “Talk later?”

“Of course.” She gives a little wave, and turns towards work. When she glances back over her shoulder, Kara is gone, nothing left but the breeze she flew in on left. 

  
  
  


*_*_*_*_*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only three more chapters to go folks (three loooooooooooong chapters, if my one-millionth outline is anything to go by). We're in the home stretch now! :) Thanks again for reading and feel free to come chat or yell with me over on Tumblr: spicycheeser.tumblr.com


End file.
